Sanguine
by jamdropsmarblecakes
Summary: A leggy redhead comes crashing into Oliver's life. What does she know about his past, and present, that could put the whole operation in jeopardy? I've rated this T for a few language bombs. UPDATE: Just a heads up, guys and girls, that this is not an Olicity fic. While there are hints of Olicity, it's not what I set out to do.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This is the first piece of writing I have ever showed anyone except my dog, so this is a pretty huge deal for. Any advice you want to give is more than welcome, I encourage it! I have to thank lolanae for, in the end, just telling me to do it. I'm not 100% sure of exactly where this is going but I have two more chapters so far. And about twelve different versions of these chapters. So. Without further ranbling, I stop my Felicity-esque babble and present to you, _Sanguine_.**

Oliver was off in his own nightmarish world as he took a leisurely stroll in the general direction of the coffee shop that sold Felicity's favorite brownies. _"But only on a Saturday."_

He smiled at her stern words, added perhaps as an afterthought to a long winded rant about the aforementioned chocolate goodies, during which she had assured him that they were better than sex and then blushed furiously.

Shaking his head, Oliver pushed open the door, the smile instantly wiped off his face as a flurry of arms and legs crashed into him.

"Oof," he grunted, the wind knocked out of him. The red headed force to be reckoned with mimicked his own movements, grabbing his forearms to steady them both.

"Shit," the strangely accented voice hissed, jumping out of the way of her falling coffee cup. It hit the ground, the lid bursting off with surprising force, its contents pooling quickly.

"Are you okay?" Oliver couldn't help the smirk that tugged at his mouth.

"I'm fine, I'm sorry," she rushed, stepping out of the way of a waitress who was already placing a wet floor sign and smiling understandingly at the tall girl that still had a hold of Oliver's arms.

"It's okay," Oliver assured her, trying to catch her eyes, which were looking everywhere except at him.

"I was rushing around like a complete idiot, my dog decided that this morning would be an awesome morning to tap his paw to the underside of his chin," she demonstrated what he must have looked like, finally removing her soft hands from Oliver's forearms, "and then he was really grumpy so I played tug o' war with him for a while, and then I realized I had no milk so I had to take a detour on the way to work this morning to get coffee because, hey, you do not want to see me without my daily dose of caffeine and I thought I was heading in the right direction to this coffee shop that I went to with a friend but then I get lost and had been driving around for like, twenty minutes when I finally saw this place and then they made my coffee on soy milk, and blergh," she pulled a face, pushing her blue glasses up from where they had slipped down her nose "so I had to wait while they made it again and now I'm running super late, and I was flapping around like an absolute friggin' dork and-"

She cut herself off, slapping her hand over her mouth, finally looking Oliver in the eyes. He was surprised to see the emerald color they held.

Oliver took a deep breath, feeling a weird sense of déjà vu.

"I'm okay, you're okay, you are okay, right?" he asked.

He received a slow nod in reply, her hand coming away from her mouth at snail's pace.

"Awesome, let me buy you a coffee to replace the one on the floor," he offered.

"Um," she looked at her watch and shrugged. "Ugh, I'm already late, what's five more minutes?"

Oliver stepped passed her, noting her height and glancing down at her feet to ensure she was unaided by heels. The tan leather flats, lightly spattered with milky coffee, meant that this woman with alarmingly familiar characteristics was as tall as him, maybe even a little taller.

He found himself straightening up as the two of them joined the line short line at the counter.

Oliver glanced sideways at his new friend, watching as she bit her lip, trying to bring a mass of curls under control. He thought that she looked like a character from an animated movie that Thea had been watching the night before. She was slim from head to toe, all arms and legs. She was wearing a black cotton stretch t-shirt that was neatly tucked into black suit pants held up by a tan belt.

"I'm Oliver, by the way," he leant towards her, whispering out of the corner of his mouth like it was some big secret.

"Pippa," she smiled, dipping her head in a curtsey.

"Where are you from?"

"Sydney, Australia."

"It's nice to meet you, Pippa from Sydney, Australia," he turned on his charming smile.

"You too, I'm sorry about before, I'm not usually like that, well, in the sense that I usually only flap around my house, or in the car, generally when I'm by myself, not in public, and not flapping like a chicken," she tucked her arms up and did a little chicken dance, "just, you know, like a headless chicken, not really sure where I'm going but I know that I need to get there like, yesterday. And I've only been in my job for about thirteen hours and I've already managed to seriously impair the relationship between the boss man and me by well, doing what I'm doing now..."

Oliver's eyebrows furrowed together.

"Can I help you?" a young girl asked from behind the cake display.

Oliver stepped forward and ordered the coffees for his team, as well as brownies and cupcakes to ply Felicity with over the course of what was promising to be a long day. He turned to Pippa.

"What coffee do you drink?"

"Oh!" she exclaimed, "Strong latte, please."

_I like the way her 't's sound like 'd's. _

Oliver looked back at the waitress to make sure she got the order. He paid and turned back to Pippa as they moved to the other end of the counter to wait for their coffees.

"What do you do with yourself, Pippa?" he asked.

"I, um, I work in forensics. I used to work for a private lab back home, but now I'm working with SCPD in their lab," she smiled.

"Interesting," he scratched his chin.

"What about you?" she rocked back and forth on her heels, wringing her hands until her knuckles cracked.

"I work under my step father and I own the nightclub, Verdant, just around the corner," he explained.

"OH! That's one of my friend's favorite places to go, I'm not really the partying type, music is too loud, spirits and I don't mix, put a cold beer or a nice glass of wine in my hand and let me just sit back and relax at a barbecue or a nice restaurant and I'm in my element. Plus, dresses, I don't do dresses," she was very adamant in the delivery of her last sentence.

"I'll remember that," Oliver nodded, amused.

"Oh, I don't expect you to remember that, or me, or any of this," she waved her hands in the air.

_Like I could forget._

"Mr. Queen, coffees are ready," the barista placed the four coffees on the glass cabinet, "Do you want a carry tray?"

"Please," he stepped forward, taking his hands out of his pockets.

After handing Pippa hers he placed the other three in the cardboard tray and turned back to the tall red head, who had the takeaway cup held gratefully and steadily in both hands, eyes closed as she sipped the steaming drink.

"Which way are you headed?" Oliver asked as they ambled towards the front door.

"Um," Pippa sounded unsure as she held the door open for him. She stopped and look up and down the street, finally pointing in to her right. "I think I parked my car that way."

"Alright, well, I'm going this way," Oliver gestured with his head in the other direction.

"Okay, well, Oliver, it was a pleasure, thanks for the coffee," she raised her cup in a toast like fashion.

"No problem, Pippa, it was certainly something meeting you, you're quite, you're remarkable," he said, trying an already used compliment, watching her turn and walk away.

"Thank you for remarking on it," she called over her shoulder, flashing a smile.

Oliver shook his head quickly, closing and then opening his eyes to make sure he wasn't dreaming this encounter. Only when he saw Pippa disappear around the corner did he turn on his heel and head back towards Verdant.

After a five minute walk, Oliver juggled the coffees and bag of sweet treats as he entered the code to the club's basement and easily jogged down the stairs.

"Felicity," he started and she turned around slowly in her chair with a look on her face that made Oliver think she'd done something wrong. He made a mental note to grill her later. "I think I just met your long lost twin."

**Sooo...? You'll have to forgive spelling and grammar mistakes. All mine. Doc Manager fixed all my Australian-isms, so hopefully it reads a little easier. I hope you enjoy!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Helloooo! Thanks for the lovely reviews! Dianitachiva, I'm not so sure that this is going to be an Olicity thing... I did add a few more names but they didn't come up. Lolanae, more thanks than you could ever know, and bjq, an update for you!  
Also a hello to Remarc69, forbiddenlove09, ntb1974 and singerzrule for favo(u)riting this story. I appreciate it all.**

I wasn't expecting it to go in _this _direction, but after a little nudge from a certain someone, I'm pretty happy with it. I hope you are, too...

* * *

"Pippa Mason," Felicity sat back in her chair, hitting a key that brought up everything she could find on Oliver's mystery woman. "Graduated from CIT four years ago with Dean's Honors. Moved to Sydney and worked as a CSI and tech at Green's, ha, Private Forensics up until two weeks ago when she sold her inner city apartment, her _very _nice car and most of her belongings after an offer to work with the SCPD."

"Huh," Oliver sounded surprised.

"Seems legit," Diggle added.

"Except, Starling City? Really?" Felicity raised an eyebrow as she chewed on the end of her pen.

"You don't think that she just jumped at the chance to work in Starling City forensics?" Diggle asked.

"Well, I've been inside the lab here, don't ask," she caught the look from both men, "and it's not exactly the most technologically advanced of its kind. I mean, they don't even test their own ballistics there, it gets done a few cities over," she paused and then lent forward, continuing in a whisper, "And they often rely on their backup generator for their body fridges because the main one usually fails."

Diggle scrunched his face up, but Oliver looked unperturbed.

"Where are we on the latest with the Charlotte Jensen stuff?" Oliver changed the subject, unfolding his arms and hitting a key to close the windows.

"Parents are being interviewed, they're convinced that she's been kidnapped, but her house was locked up and everything undisturbed when the police searched it, so..."

"She hasn't used her phone or her bankcards, nothing?" Oliver asked.

"Nope, nada," Felicity blew a bit of hair off her face.

"Alright, I promised Thea that I'd have lunch with her today, can you two keep going with this," he gestured at the computers, "let me know if she pops up anywhere, I think that she's gone off the radar with this Smith guy, keep an eye on his bank accounts and phone too."

Felicity nodded with her lips pursed.

"Something wrong, Felicity?" Oliver asked in a tone that dared her to challenge him.

She shook her head and Oliver nodded at her and Diggle, leaving them to their own devices in the basement.

Once they heard the big heavy door close, Felicity hit a few keys at lightning speed and brought up everything that Oliver thought he had closed.

Diggle was by her side in an instant, one hand on the desk, one hand on the back of Felicity's chair.

"You don't like this?" Diggle asked.

Felicity didn't answer, she just kept reading, furiously striking the keys.

Pippa Louise Mason was born in a small country town in the middle of nowhere. She grew up on a farm on the outskirts of the town that was in the middle of nowhere. She went to an elite boarding school in Sydney for her high school years. She was accepted early, before her leaving exam results, into the Forensics course at a not so elite Institute of Technology in the country's capital. She topped the course and accepted the first job offer that came her way. She bought a modest apartment in the middle of Sydney and plugged away at her job in a private lab, often being contracted out to work with state and federal police. Aside from a speeding fine (the police report stated she had been on her way to a crime scene) she had flown under the radar in 26 years of life.

As far as Felicity could tell, Pippa had no living relatives, and not a single social media account, which made the voyeur in her a little bit annoyed.

"She doesn't even have Facebook!" she exclaimed out loud, after nearly two hours of research.

"Is that a crime?" Diggle asked.

"It is these days. We could have SO much more information on her if she did. Do you know how hard it is to find someone who isn't on the World Wide Web these days? Well, it's hard if you aren't me. Lucky for you and Oliver, I'm a techspert," Diggle raised an eyebrow at her, "Technology expert?"

Diggle shook his head.

"Oh, come on, I'm a little bit funny," Felicity argued.

She watched as Diggle walked away muttering "techspert" to himself and then turned back to her computer.

_Oliver needed an alterior a motive to be this interested in me, why is he so interested in another bumbling idiot with the coordination of a sloth? Surely one of me is enough of a headache for him. _

Felicity tried to remain calm, slowing her rhythmic typing to try and slow her heartbeat and mind.

_Alright. Dead parents. No siblings. No aunts. No uncles. I've checked births and deaths. Marriages. Surely a marriage would have come up in the initial search? _

Still, Felicity checked, typing variations of Pippa's name into the search engine, finally happening on a marriage of a Pippa Lewis Masen. She copy and pasted her listed spouse's name but came up with nothing.

"Ooooh," Felicity whistled, drawing Diggle's attention. He came striding across the basement floor to read over her shoulder.

"What is it? Something on Jensen or Smith?"

"Nope, better," she smiled, "A little more on Oliver's mystery red head."

"Is that a marriage certificate?" Diggle asked, disbelieving what he was he seeing.

"Yep, slightly different name, and birth date, but surely," Felicity pointed at the date the marriage was registered, "I mean, she got married young, but, kids these days."

"So, a nineteen year old Pippa Louisa Masen marries and presumably divorces and then changes her name by a few letters. Smoak, I think you were right," Diggle straightened and put his hands on his hips, "there is something a little off with this one."

"Question is what?"

"You run her mystery husband's name?" Diggle asked.

Felicity nodded, looking back at a few of the search programs that were still running.

"Not much to go on, I mean, it's a ridiculous name to start with. Australians, man, they give their kids some odd names," Felicity shook her head.

"What was his name again?" Diggle questioned.

The sound of the code being punched in and the door opening had them both looking over Diggle's shoulder. Oliver was as flamboyant as ever as he came into view at the bottom of the stairs. Felicity scrambled around in her chair, switching the screens back to her research on Jensen and Smith.

"Who's name?" Oliver questioned.

"Oliver!" Felicity exclaimed, turning back to face him.

"How are we doing?" Oliver asked, his knowing gaze making Felicity bite her lip.

"My long lost twin is looking more and more likely to be my evil twin," Felicity blurted out.

"I thought I asked you to drop it and continue with Charlotte Jensen?" Oliver looked between his two friends, who were both looking guilty.

"Yes, but Oliver, she was married. And she changed her name after the marriage, well, after the marriage went gosh knows where, I can't find anything on the husband. Who, by the by, has the most outlandish name I have ever heard, which is certainly saying something because I went to a Montessori school for a year and there were some weird names floating around the classrooms there. Hippies, you know, all Lavender Rose and Chestnut Thunder," she looked up from her fidgeting hands and realized that Oliver was staring at her with the exasperated look her reserved for times she babbled.

"What was the supposed husband's name?" Oliver asked.

Felicity spun in her chair, checking the name once more.

"Wilson" Felicity started, "Slade Wilson."

"Pfft, Slade," Diggle scoffed.

Oliver's relaxed demeanor changed in an instant. His face clouded over, eyebrows drew together, mouth set in a straight line.

"What did you just say?" Oliver demanded.

* * *

***cue dramatic music* Like I said before, I'm still fiddling with the next chapter. I was with this one right up until I posted it. There may be a little bit of time between now and the next one, just until I get it right as rain. Thanks guys...  
**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello to Kaden-san and Damara, I'm really happy that this story is intriguing you both. Now, not to let you down! Pressure! And Jadiee, thanks for throwing a few things around with me.**

* * *

Oliver had checked that Pippa was the only one left in the building about a dozen times now. The last time he'd seen her she was sitting at a desk cluttered with files and photos and books. He took a deep breath, prayed that she wasn't THE Pippa Masen that Felicity had found and then picked the lock on the back door to the crime lab.

"Now Felicity," he whispered into his coms unit, as he stalked up the linoleum lined hallway.

"Alrighty then," her response was simultaneous with the building being catapulted into darkness.

There was silence for a moment and then a door creaked open. Oliver could just make out the silhouette of the girl he had met in the coffee shop two days before. Her abundance of curls was piled on top of her head in a bun, random spirals shooting out everywhere.

"Hello?" she called, her voice wavering slightly. Oliver could hear her scuffing her feet along the floor, feeling along the walls for the strategically placed torches. She was very close.

Oliver heard one of the torches come off the wall and just as Pippa was about to turn it on, he knocked an arrow and pressed it in between her ribs, feeling her skin give a little.

"Don't move," he threatened.

There was a squeak in the dark, "Oh my fucking god," her voice was barely audible.

"Drop the torch."

There was a clatter as she followed his orders, dropping the torch promptly at her feet.

"Pippa Mason?" he asked.

"Mmhmm," she whimpered.

"We need to talk."

"O-okay?" she replied.

"Tell me about Slade Wilson."

"Who?" There was enough of a falter in her voice to make Oliver not believe her.

"Slade Wilson."

"I'm sorry, I-I don't know who that-"

"DON'T LIE TO ME!" Oliver dug his arrow in a little deeper than he intended to.

Pippa whimpered and then started sobbing.

"Please..."

"Start talking, or so help me God..."

"He-he was my husband, and I loved him and then government paid him a lot of money to take what ended up being a suicide mission through ASIS. I haven't seen him in nearly seven years. All I know is that his plane was shot down and neither it nor his body or any of his team mates' bodies were ever found. EVER. And, and then they paid me a lot of money to forget about it. We'd only been married a few months..."

"What is ASIS?"

He felt Pippa move a little, leaning back against the wall.

"It's the Australian Secret Intelligence Agency, Slade was part of a top secret team there who gathered intelligence and often performed tasks like hostage recovery and assassinations of underworld figures and terrorists."

"Why are you in Starling City?" Oliver pressed.

"I got offered the job and I thought leaving Australia was as good a solution as any to leave behind any thought of Slade," she whispered.

"Why did you change your name?"

"The head honchos at ASIS thought it would be for the best," her voice was still shakey, "I didn't want to, I would have given anything to remain Pippa Wilson but they, you know, they were worried about who might have gotten a hold of Slade and what they might have done to him and what he might have told them, but I don't think that he would ever have told them about me, he was too loyal and loving for that, I trusted him with everything I had but..."

Oliver pulled back a little, releasing the tension on his bow. Everything that she was saying was the truth. Slade had told him on the island that Team 7 had been sent to Lian Yu to rescue Yao Fei but their aircraft had been shot down and they had been captured before they even had a chance. What Oliver couldn't work out is why Slade hadn't told him about this girl. Pippa was the kind of girl that most men would brag about, tall, beautiful and fiercely independent. He couldn't understand why Slade wouldn't have had a picture, like he had one of Laurel, with him on the island. Why the hope in her eyes wasn't enough to get him through.

Pippa had a legitimate reason to change her name, albeit ever so slightly. She was told that anything could have happened to Slade. It was for her own well-being that she did. If she'd been led to believe that he'd been captured, she might have thought that they would come after her too.

Diggle and Felicity now had more and more knowledge about the island. It made Oliver a little uneasy. He had intended to keep as much to himself as possible. But things were unraveling at an alarming speed.

Oliver was struggling to come to terms with the fact that this was all a big coincidence. It couldn't be, surely. He had discussed his options with Diggle before he came out. They had hotly debated whether or not to kill Pippa that night. If Slade was her husband, they couldn't be sure exactly how much she knew about Lian Yu.

Pippa's sniffles brought him back to the moment.

"Are-are we done talking? Because I'm exhausted, and I still have a really large amount of work to do before I get to go home and feed my dog, and I've heard about you, and if we _are_ done talking about my dead husband then I'd like you to turn the lights back on and let me get back to it, or just kill me now because I really can't be bothered to even think about cooking dinner tonight, so you'd actually be doing me a big favor."

"I'm not going to kill you," Oliver sighed. He rehoused his arrow, turned abruptly and left Pippa sitting in the dark.

He rode hard and fast back to Verdant and, with the club still full of alcohol fueled bodies, took the dimly lit back entrance to the basement.

He slammed his bow down on the table, making Felicity jump.

"Where's Dig?" he spoke through gritted teeth.

"He, um," she pushed her glasses up as she turned from her desk, "He left, Carly called, I just assumed that we were done for the night, but you know, if we're not, I'll just call him and..."

She reached behind her for her phone, not taking her eyes off Oliver who still hadn't removed the hood, who was tense and trembling, who was scaring the proverbial crap out of her.

"No," he hissed that one syllable and Felicity froze.

"Oliver," she whispered as she swallowed hard, "Can you just, calm, and..."

She got up and slowly walked over to him, reaching out to touch his arm. His head snapped up and Felicity jumped backwards.

"I thought I was done with the island, Felicity," his tone was flat, mechanical. He slouched against the table behind him.

Felicity didn't know what to say, and moved to join him. She folded her arms across her chest and looked sideways at Oliver.

"Pippa might be the person you need to finally put it behind you. Whether she knows it or not, Lian Yu has shaped the both of you," she spoke slowly, with purpose, "and I'm sorry I made fun of his name."

Oliver smiled a little as he removed his hood.

"It wasn't even the Slade part that got me," Oliver shrugged, "The fact that I was stuck on an island and my only friend was named Wilson, that's the bit that got me."

Felicity giggled, nudging Oliver with her shoulder.

"God help them if they ever had kids."

Oliver stiffened up at that comment.

"Did I say some-" Felicity started but was cut off by Oliver jumping up and pulling her towards the computer. She teetered in her heeled boots.

"One time, on the island, Slade mentioned that he had a kid, Joe. He must have been really young when Slade left. Find him."

"Oliver, I think I would have found a kid after all the research I've done. I couldn't find anything more than we already knew, not even using her real name," Felicity argued.

Oliver glared at her.

"On it, boss," she rushed, sitting down and opening a new search.

* * *

**I'm not entirely happy with the 'voice' that I've given Pippa in this one, but I'm hoping it's convincing enough as a character for the time being. If you guys have an opinion on that, hit me up.**

**My computer has failed me spectacularly thanks to a daring mission that my boyfriend accepted to rescue the cat from inside the lounge. One cracked screen later and I can't see anything. Lucky for us, I have the next three chapters on here already, and I can just use his laptop. (The cat is fine by the way).**

**I'm going away this weekend so I thought I would leave you with this. I was tempted to drag it out until Monday but you guys have been too good to me.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello lovelies. I am still without a computer so am loading this from my phone. Please excuse any formatting errors. I wanted to edit this chapter a little but more, but hopefully this'll do. **

* * *

Pippa had parked out the front of her house but, instead of going inside, she'd walked around the corner, stopping at Big Belly Burger, needing something greasy and comforting after her encounter with The Hood. She had put a jacket on as she got out of the car, as much a cover for the blood on her shirt as protection against the cold.

She ordered two burgers, fries and a milkshake to go and sat at the bar to wait. The waitress who had served her smiled, placing a glass of water in front of her.

"Are you okay?" she raised an eyebrow.

Pippa nodded, "I'm fine, just a long night."

"Alright, your meal won't be too long."

Pippa cleared her throat and picked up the glass of water, ice clinking against the side.

The seeds were planted now. Suspicions confirmed.

She pulled out her notebook, filled with shorthand and secrets. Reading over Slade's handwriting she felt pangs of loneliness and sadness.

* * *

_"This is a terminally stupid idea," Pippa watched Slade stuff his government-issued tactical operations uniforms into the canvas sack, pulling the drawstring tight._

_"Pip, it's important that I do this," he replied sternly._

_"Babe, the amount of money they're offering you for this, surely that's some indication that you probably won't be coming back?"_

_"It's my job," he stated, giving the drawsting one last firm tug and throwing the bag effortlessly over his shoulder._

_"Slade, I am begging you to reconsider this," she sobbed._

_"Darling girl, I love you," he cupped her face with exquisite gentleness, "I will come back. I promise you that. I will do absolutely anything to get back to you. Do you trust me?"_

_Pippa nodded, feeling him wipe away her tears. He kissed her lovingly and pressed his forehead to hers._

_In a voice huskier than usual, he spoke quietly, "I've got to go now."_

* * *

Pippa was recalling some other memories when the waitress put a paper bag in front of her, another just off to the side, presumably meant for someone else.

"There you go, sweetie," she smiled.

"Thanks very much," Pippa smiled back, hastily stuffing the notebook in her handbag and awkwardly adjusting the straps on her shoulder.

"You go home and relax now."

"Don't you worry, I will," she replied, getting up and grabbing the takeaway bag.

She was nearly at the corner of her street when she heard her name.

She turned and saw Oliver walking towards her with a takeaway bag from Big Belly Burger.

"I thought it was you," he smiled, "You're hard to miss with that hair."

"Oliver, right?" she questioned, her hand going instinctively to her mop of hair, more mussed than earlier. She must look a right mess.

He nodded, stopping a few feet short of where she was stopped.

"You alright? You look a little shakey?"

"I just, rough night," she smiled, trying to look confident.

"Want to talk about it?" Oliver asked, "I'm just heading back to the club, we can walk and talk?"

"Um, it's just," she started and burst into tears, "You know the vigilante? I had a visit from him at my office earlier tonight."

"Woah, hey, ssh, it's alright," Oliver took her bag and milkshake from her, placing his and hers on the post box on the corner and pulling her into a hug.

"I don't even know what I've done," she sobbed.

"The guy is a psychopath," Oliver whispered, feeling guilty, "You've probably done nothing."

He took Pippa by the shoulders and looked her over, "Come on, I'll walk you home, put your mind at ease."

"It's the long way back to the club," she pointed out.

"Just humor me," he shrugged.

Pippa nodded in agreement and they continued around the corner.

"Thanks, Oliver, I'm sorry I lost it back there, I'm not much of a crier, usually, but, and I feel really stupid saying this, but that bastard got the better of me. He was terrifying," she stopped at the steps to her building.

"That's okay, want me to walk you up? I'll check the place out for you?" he offered.

"Not necessary, I've got the dog, but I appreciate it Oliver, thank you for calming me down," she smiled. Her milkshake was finished and she popped it in a street side bin.

Oliver stepped closer, running a hand gently from her shoulder, down to her wrist, taking her hand.

"If you ever need to talk about anything..." he left the unspoken offer hanging in the air.

"Thanks, you too," she squeezed his hand and let it go, "You should get back to your club, gosh knows what's happening there without you."

Oliver grinned, "I'll be seeing you, Pippa."

She nodded, watching him walk towards Verdant. Resisting the urge to call out to him. He was the closest she had to Slade right now. The billionaire had spent more time with her husband than she had. She wanted to ask him so many questions, wanted to know if Slade had talked about her. If he suffered much during his years on and in Purgatory.

But she didn't. Couldn't.

Oliver reached the corner at the other end of the block and disappeared.

Heading up the stairs, Pippa reached into the paper bag and pulled out a handful of fries, stuffing them ungracefully into her mouth, juggling keys and food.

She greeted the little old lady from next door who was sat outside puffing away on a cigarette, hastily swallowing the mouthful of soggy potatoes and pushing on the stubborn front door. Trevor, her German Shepard, was sitting patiently at the end of the hall.

"Hey boy," she rubbed his neck lovingly, beckoning him to follow her to the backdoor. She let him out and watched him pick up a tennis ball, trotting over to his bed and settling down.

She went in search of a cold beer and sighed blissfully as she twisted the lid off, hearing the release of bubbles.

She pulled a first aid kit from under the sink and opened it, unbuttoning her shirt and looking at the dried blood on her left side. She bit down hard on her bottom lip as she cleaned and covered it.

She was just doing her shirt back up when Kelly came into the kitchen.

"Are you okay, Ms. Mason?" the shy eighteen year old asked.

"Hey Kelly, I'm fine, just a really long day, how are you?" Pippa took a sip from her beer.

"I'm good, just got to finishing my chemistry assignment. I hope you don't mind, I used some of your books," she indicated the pile of heavy books on the table.

"Not a problem, do you need any help with it?"

"It's okay, I've just got to go home and print it off now," she smiled.

"How was everything today?" Pippa asked.

"Good, did the school run, walked Trevor for you, came back here to work on my assignments, he did get into an argument with another kid today, apparently over the use of the word 'biscuit' in place of 'cookie' but other than that, he was an angel, we had macaroni and cheese for dinner. I tried to convince him to eat some salad too, but..."

"That does not surprise me at all," Pippa smiled.

"What, the cookies or the salad?" Kelly grinned.

"Both, his father and I are very stubborn people, it's no wonder he's just that little bit extra head strong."

"Alright, I'm going to head home now," Kelly picked up her bag and gathered her folder of work.

"Did you park close by?" Pippa asked.

"Yeah, thanks," Kelly smiled and headed towards the door, "I'll see you tomorrow, Pippa."

"Of course, see you later, Kelly."

Pippa put her beer bottle on the counter and headed to the bedroom, kicking off her shoes and continuing down the hallway. The door was slightly ajar and she pushed it open quietly, tiptoeing over to the single bed.

She knelt down and ran her hair through the small boy's dark hair.

"Sleep tight, Joe," she kissed him on the cheek, a soft hand on his chest when he stirred.


	5. Chapter 5

**This'll just be a little fluffy-ish filler for the mean time. Thanks to new followers and favouriters, and the few reviewers still hanging around.**

* * *

_"Wah, it's bloody boiling," Pippa moaned, dumping dirty coffee cups in the sink and pushing damp curls off her face._

_The dish boy, Alex, smiled timidly at her, whispering a sarcastic thanks for more items to wash up. She put a sympathetic hand on his back._

_"It's about to get hotter," another waitress, Katy, spoke up, nodding subtly towards the door of the cafe as it was pushed open._

_A man of average height, and beyond average build and looks, took a seat next to the window, looking around at the reasonably packed cafe and then at his watch._

_"Who is that?" Pippa asked._

_"I don't know, but he's been coming in here more and more, and he's beautiful," Katy was fanning her face absentmindedly with a tea towel._

_"I've never seen him before," Pippa almost laughed at her friend's action._

_"He comes in first thing in the morning usually, before you start."_

_"Would one of you two like to go serve him?" Danielle spoke up from behind them, hands on hips, then moving to cradle her heavily pregnant belly._

_"On it," Pippa squeezed passed Katy who was still shaking herself out of a daydream, picking up a menu from the basket on the way._

_The handsome man in the red polo shirt watched her with dark eyes as she moved, practiced, around tables and customers waiting for takeaway orders._

_"Afternoon," Pippa smiled, "are you waiting on anybody?"_

_"Not anymore," he grinned back._

_"Oh please," she scoffed, but blushed anyway. "Ordering lunch?"_

_She placed the mini clipboard down in front of him and pulled out her notepad, "Can I get you a coffee or a cold drink while you decide?"_

_He glanced over the menu._

_"I'll get the gnocchi, thanks, with a sparkling water, and a long black afterwards," he made to hand the menu back to her, a playful look on his face._

_She scribbled the order down, making him wait with his arm outstretched._

_"Ah, a leftie," he smiled._

_Pippa was conscious of every move she made now, tucking the pen in the bun at the back of her head and taking the menu._

_"Runs in the family," she dead panned._

_"I'm Slade," he placed a hand on hers._

_"Pippa," she replied._

_"Lovely to meet you, Pippa."_

_"Your lunch won't be too long," she left abruptly, her face on fire._

* * *

_Pippa was acutely aware of Slade's eyes on her as she packed down the cake display. The cafe wasn't due to close until six but the afternoon storm had sent everyone home early. She figured she'd get as organized as she could with fifteen minutes to go so she could simply clean the coffee machine and dash home herself, just in time to walk the dog and then settle down and knock out an assignment._

_Slade slowly sipped his long black, licking his lips to get rid of the crema._

_Pippa looked at him through her eyelashes, writing the cake list for whoever was opening tomorrow._

_"What do you do with yourself, Pippa?" came the husky voice from across the cafe. He always sat at the same table now, one with a view of everything happening outside, but also a direct line to the counter._

_"Study and work," she didn't even look up at him._

_"What are you studying?"_

_"Forensics."_

_"You enjoying it?" he was on his feet now, moving towards the counter._

_"I'm three months in, so, yeah, so far I am," she nodded, managing a smile this time, "give it a few more, I'm sure I'll change my mind."_

_Slade was standing with his legs apart, hands in pockets, hips pressed into the counter and Pippa had to forcibly return to writing the list, humming softly._

_"Give me something to go on here," he pleaded softly._

_Pippa tore the list off the notepad and clipped it to the cabinet, not taking her eyes off Slade as she did so. She eyed him wearily._

_He now skipped his morning coffee at Sweet Bones, coming in a roughly the same time every afternoon instead. He ordered lunch just before the kitchen closed at four, and asked for his coffee to be held until after he finished his meal. He never ate with anyone else, but was a definite people watcher; appearing almost as though he was assessing the threat level of everyone within a twenty meter radius of him. Sometimes he read, sometimes he wrote. Pippa had even spied a few files but had never managed to see what was in them. He had a gentle face, tanned and not at all smooth, scars curved over his chin and weaved through his eyebrows, perhaps they were what made him so attractive to her._

_"I have an assignment to do tonight once I finish up here," she stated, shutting down any chance he had of asking her to dinner._

_"I'll cook for you," he offered, not at all deterred by her bluntness, "You can come to my place, it's literally just around the corner, I have a lot of work to do tonight so it'll be a nice simple meal, nothing extravagant, and then you can go home and finish your assignment?"_

_Pippa wanted to baulk at his offer, but there was something in the way he stood, his arms open in a 'come on, whaddya say?' motion that meant the words were out of her mouth before she even realized._

_"That sounds nice."_

_"How much more do you have to do here?" he rubbed his hands together, a smile playing on his lips as he looked around._

_"I've got to bring all the tables and chairs in, clean the coffee machine and give the tables a once over. They are baking in the kitchen tonight so they're going to sweep and mop," Pippa hadn't even finished her sentence when Slade was outside, stacking chairs and carrying more inside in one go than Pippa could ever hope to._

_She smiled, shaking her head, as she turned on the steam wands of the coffee machine, her blush being enveloped in a transparent cloud. _

* * *

_Three dinners later and they didn't even bother with dinner anymore, and if they did, they ate whatever Pippa could find in Slade's sparsely stocked fridge._

_"What are we having tonight?" Slade came out of the bathroom in a pair of gray boxer briefs and nothing more. Pippa was momentarily lost for words at the sight of his naked torso and grabbed the first thing she could put her hands on._

_"Toasted sandwiches...?" she eventually managed to offer, holding a bag of bread in the air_

_"Darling girl, you know the way to a man's heart," he cupped her face and kissed her._

_"I do try," she whispered._

_A big calloused hand ran down her back and then found its way under her singlet._

_"We can get Chinese from around the corner," Slade spoke softly, his face buried in Pippa's neck, under her wildly curly hair, "It's Friday night, by the time we get to ordering, it'll be at least forty minutes, they'll be busy."_

_"Uh huh," Pippa nodded, her mouth hungrily finding Slade's._

* * *

_"Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit," was all Slade could hear coming from the bathroom._

_"Darling girl," he knocked lightly, leaning on the door frame, "are you okay?"_

_There was silence and then the door flung open, a face full of fury inches from his own._

_"Are you okay?" he offered again, a smile tugging at the scarred side of his mouth._

_"Do I look or sound okay to you?" she hissed, stalking passed him up the hallway._

_"See, that,, that right there, is one of those questions that boyfriends around the world have been putting their feet in their mouths trying to answer," he called after her._

_She stopped near the bedroom door and turned around._

_"Uh oh," Slade rushed under his breath._

_"I'm pregnant, you idiot, pregnant!" Pippa shouted._

_"I know, darling girl" he replied._

_"You know?" her tone changed._

_"Well, I guessed," he paused, "which is why I've been talking to some people at work, and why I think it'd be best for all of us, but you and bub especially, if we got married."_

* * *

**So. That's that for now. More to come in the next few days. Reviews are always welcome, lovely readers. And any ideas or anything you'd like to see. Always and forever welcome. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks for the reviews guys! And to the new followers that are still coming in! Amazing! I know I said it would be a couple of days but State of Origin was on last night and it wasn't as exciting as I had hoped it would be, so I bashed out another chapter. I have actually written the finally chapter for this story, but I've just got to get there.**

* * *

Struggling up the concrete steps to Pippa's house, Oliver hugged one arm tightly to himself as he knocked quietly. He normally would have tended to his own injuries, but his right shoulder sent static waves of pain through him every time he tried to move it.

The lateness of the hour didn't seem to bother Pippa because the porch light came on almost instantly, followed by the sound of a deadlock being turned.

"Oliver, Jesus, what the hell happened to you?" she exclaimed, but kept her voice low, looking past Oliver to the street behind him.

"Ugh, I got jumped walking to my car, do you mind if I come in?" he lied.

She ushered him inside, a supportive hand on his back guiding him to the cosy lounge room.

"Sit," she ordered.

Oliver eased himself into a single armchair, wincing at the drop onto the cushion that was lower than he expected.

"Do you want me to call the police?" she asked, disappearing into the kitchen.

"Nah, it was just a group of kids, they took my wallet, it's not a big deal," he replied.

Oliver had sent Felicity and Diggle home, deciding not to drag them in to the latest 'hunt'. When the man he was after turned out to be some kind of beyond black belt, Oliver had come off second best. He couldn't call Dig, and he certainly didn't want to worry Felicity. He had his suit neatly folded in the parcel compartment on the back of his motorbike, so he quickly changed, driving around the corner to Pippa's, knowing that with the concussion he most probably had he shouldn't be alone.

"Not a big deal? Oliver, have you seen your face?" she exclaimed, returning with ice packs and a first aid kit.

Oliver's eyebrows furrowed and Pippa bit her lip.

"Sorry," she smiled, offering him one of the ice packs, "Here."

"Thanks," he tried to return the smile but was only successful in re-splitting his lip.

"Oh, god, here, let me take a look at you," she rushed, and then cringed.

"You are a lot like a friend of mine," he told her.

"What do you mean?" Pippa raised an eyebrow, sitting on the coffee table in front of Oliver with the first aid kit opened on her lap.

"No filter."

She handed Oliver some gauze to press to his lip and went about cleaning his other cuts with antiseptic and cotton buds. Oliver closed his eyes and concentrated on her warm, vaguely minty breath.

"I didn't wake you, did I?" his words were quiet and slow.

Pippa stopped her gentle dabbing of Oliver's eyebrow and looked at him. His eyes were closed, his mouth slightly open as his limp hand pressed the gauze to his mouth.

"Did you get knocked out?" she whispered, not wanting to startle him. His eyes opened slowly, bleary and unfocused.

"I don't think so, I did get a boot to the head once or twice," he explained, and that wasn't a lie.

"I'll set you up a bed on the lounge, you sure as hell have a concussion and aren't going anywhere tonight," Pippa informed him.

Half an hour later, Oliver was under a heavy doona on the three seater lounge, nodding off to sleep. He had every intention of getting up once Pippa was in bed, snooping through whatever he could find under the cover of darkness just to satisfy Felicity and Diggle. But he found himself unable to even keep his eyes open, and his body was hurting.

"We should have dinner next week," he slurred, looking at her through half open eyes.

Pippa just nodded as she switched off the main light and went upstairs, setting an alarm on her phone for forty five minute intervals to check on Oliver. She shut Joe's door, grateful that he was at a friend's house for the night.

She shimmied out of her work clothes and changed into cotton shorts and a singlet, slid into bed and watched the headlights from cars passing by throw patterns across her ceiling.

At two in the morning, Pippa was sat, sleep be damned, in the armchair occupied earlier in the night by the Hood himself, reading a few police reports that had been compiled and were waiting for her signature.

Oliver stirred, groaning a little as he rolled over.

"You okay?" she was knelt on the floor in front of him almost immediately.

He groaned a reply.

"I'm sorry my lounge isn't too comfortable," she shrugged, "Come on, let's move you to my bed."

Oliver didn't argue as Pippa helped in sit up, putting his arm around her shoulders and assisting him up the set of stairs.

Pippa pulled the sheets back from the still made side of the bed and lowered Oliver into it. He sighed with relief as he laid out straight, rolling away from her. She climbed in on her side, pulling the sheets up over both of them.

No more than ten minutes had passed when Pippa felt a hand on her hip. She rolled over to find a half awake Oliver shuffling closer to her. She put an arm under his head, stroking his back lovingly. He pressed himself against her, finding comfort in her warmth and the way she ran her fingers through his close cropped hair. His hot breath was steady on her chest, his chin jutted forward just a bit.

"I could kill you right now," Pippa whispered almost inaudibly, the malice in her voice enough to give anyone goosebumps.

Oliver's head was fuzzy and sleep was threatening to take him once more, so Pippa's hissed threat only registered as noise.

"Hmmm?"

"I've got you now," Pippa spoke up, "just relax."

And Oliver did.

* * *

A drilling ringtone shocked Oliver from his sleep. It took him a minute to work out that he was in Pippa's empty bed. The noise was coming from downstairs.

His joints creaked as he moved out of bed, across the floor and downstairs, locating his phone and putting it to his ear.

"Hello?" he breathed heavily.

"Are you okay?" came Felicity's voice, filled with worry.

"Fine, what's up?" he asked.

"Blake Smith's cellphone was just turned on."

"Alright, I'm about five minutes away, I won't be up to doing anything today, but at least we can make sure that he and Charlotte are safe. Have you called Dig?"

"Just about to."

"Alright, see you soon."

"Bye."

Oliver managed to find everything except his tie, but figured he could get it anytime. He left in a rush, almost grinning when he realized that this is probably what Pippa called 'flapping'.

Had he not been in such a hurry, he would have noticed the picture on a buffet by the door. It was of Pippa, Slade and Joe.

_And the Joe in the picture wasn't much younger than the Joe that Oliver had seen in the school playground three days ago._

* * *

**I have gone through and edited this about 13 times now. So I just had to force myself to post it. You'd think that after that many read throughs all the mistakes would be corrected, but I'm pretty sure they aren't!  
**


	7. Chapter 7

**So this is just a little filler in the lead up to where everything starts kicking off.**

**I will get to replying to all your reviews. One days, eventually, when I'm not working/house hunting/car hunting/studying/trying to maintain some semblance of a social life.**

**The Anais Nin book that gets a vague mention in this update is 'Little Birds' which is such a wonderful (mildly inappropriate for young readers) and eloquently written book. Check it out if you get a chance. **

**This is just a bit of nothing. So I apologise for how boring it is.**

* * *

It was the Tuesday after Oliver's run in with the business man-come-ninja. The bruises on his face had settled and his lip had almost healed.

"Morning," Oliver placed a steaming takeaway cup in front of Felicity as he entered her office at Queen Consolidated.

"What brings you down to the dungeons?" she asked, picking the cup up off some important paperwork and narrowing her eyes at Oliver.

"I can't just bring you a cup of coffee?"

She continued to glare at him.

"Alright," he grinned in defeat, "You got me."

"I knew it!" she pointed an accusatory finger at Oliver, but in her rush for victory she had managed to spill a little coffee on her skirt.

"I need you to get off work here early on Friday and be at Verdant at 4," he explained, watching her dab at the coffee stains with a tissue.

"Uh huh, sure, Verdant, 4, Friday," she nodded, slightly distracted but fully comprehending.

"Thanks Felicity," he smiled and turned to leave.

"Wait," she called out after him, just as he reached the door, "Why are we doing something so early on a Friday?"

Oliver pursed his lips, before he turned around to face Felicity with a gleaming smile on his face.

"No reason," he assured her.

"Oliver, if I keep narrowing my eyes at you I'm going to get wrinkles," she pointed to the creases that formed between her eyes as she drew her eyebrows into a frown.

"I have a date."

"You have a date," Felicity repeated.

"I think that's what I just said, although," he cupped a hand to his ear, "the echo in this room makes it really difficult."

He smiled at her playfully when she stuck her tongue out at him.

"Yes, Felicity, I have a date, with a normal human being, because I'm a normal human being, at least to everyone else that..." he sat down on a cushioned seat, motioning the rest of the sentence with his hands in a 'you get where I'm going' fashion.

"Everyone else that is not involved in our little threesome?" Felicity finished, and then drew in a sharp breath, closing her eyes, "And by threesome, I of course mean the little business arrangement that you and Diggle and I have, nothing, you know, that was NOT meant to be some kind of innuendo or anything."

She dared to open one eye and peek at Oliver. His eyebrows were raised and his mouth set in a straight line, but Felicity could tell by the twinkle in his blue eyes that he was highly amused by yet another one of her slip ups.

"You good?" he asked.

"Yes, so, anyway, date, normal human being, am I being led to believe it's not Pippa?" Felicity asked.

"No, it is Pippa."

"Oliver!" Felicity exclaimed but bit back anything else that was about to come out of her mouth because she spotted someone walking by her office. It was only after they'd passed that she continued, this time, in a hiss, "She's not a normal frickin' human being! She's up to something, Oliver. Up to something."

She nodded; satisfied that she'd managed to give Oliver a good telling off.

"Felicity, it's a dinner date, get over it," Oliver stood and left, abruptly ending their conversation.

"It's a dinner date," Felicity grumbled sarcastically, pushing her glasses back on her face and turning back to her computers.

* * *

"There was a few weird phone calls today," Kelly was filling Pippa in on the day's events as she stacked the dishwasher.

"Mhmmm?" Pippa was flipping through a large pile of mail, mostly for the previous owners of the house.

"Like, I answered it, and it was just silence...?"

"Probably just wrong numbers, or maybe somebody calling for the people who lived here before me, some people get nervous when they talk to people they don't know on the phone," Pippa glanced up and smiled at her.

Kelly grinned back knowingly, having stumbled her way through a phone interview with Pippa for the nanny job.

"How are you so brave, Ms. Mason? How did you get to be so independent? I'm forever in awe of you, working such an awesome job and having Joe, all by yourself," Kelly whispered and Pippa noticed a few tears threatening to spill over.

"Oh, Kelly, no crying," Pippa giggled, a little overwhelmed from the compliments thrown her way, "I'll join you in a minute."

"Sorry," Kelly smiled, wiping tears from her eyes.

"It's probably not just by chance that I'm alone. It would be very hard for a man to live with me, unless he's terribly strong. And if he's stronger than me, I'm the one who can't live with him. I'm neither smart nor stupid, but I don't think I'm a run-of-the-mill person," Pippa offered by way of explanation. "I've been in business without being a businesswoman, I've loved without being a woman made only for love. The two men I've loved, I think, will remember me, on earth or in heaven, because men always remember a woman who caused them concern and uneasiness."

Kelly sat there processing her words.

"That's Coco Chanel, someone I never thought I'd be quoting," Pippa smirked.

"Ha, that's awesome."

"I don't know if I should be giving this to you," Pippa said, moving to pluck a tattered novel of the bookshelf nearby, "your parents may not appreciate my giving it to you. Have you heard of Anaïs Nin?"

Kelly scrunched up her nose and shook her head.

"'How wrong is it for a woman to expect the man to build the world she wants, rather than to create it herself.'"

"Is that why you're a single mom?" Kelly asked.

Pippa chewed her bottom lip.

"I'm sorry," Kelly rushed, "that was very forward and rude and audacious of me."

"Don't be sorry," Pippa assured her. "Having a less than acceptable father making ridiculous choices around him will end up leaving an irreversible and negative imprint on Joe."

"He's a good kid."

"He really is."

"Do you still need me to work late Friday night?" Kelly asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah, if that's alright, head home now, if you like. Your pay is in the envelope on the buffet."

"Alright, thanks Pippa, for the talk," Kelly was collecting her handbag and backpack.

"No worries, Kelly," Pippa watched her head towards the front door.

Kelly stumbled over something and bent down to pick it up.

"He's amazing with these toy swords, he's like a ninja," Kelly laughed, turning around brandishing the plastic scabbard, "we were sword fighting in the backyard this afternoon, he took it very seriously."

"He's a serious kid," Pippa smiled.

"But honestly, do you often sword fight with him? He's got an impressive set of skills for a six year old."

"Ha," Pippa turned to clear the table, hiding her uneasiness, "You know how kids can be."


	8. Chapter 8

**Okie dokie artichokies... This has been stored in my doc manager as 'Chapter 5' for quite some time. So now, finally, it's chapter 8. **

* * *

Oliver left the body prone on the ground, three arrows in the back. He cut Charlotte Jensen free of the restraints around her wrists, leaving a prepaid phone in her lap.

"Call your parents, they're worried about you," he ordered.

"But what about Blake?" she whispered.

"He'll come to soon, he's just knocked out."

"Thank you," she called after her hooded savior as he disappeared out of the warehouse.

"Felicity, what time is it?" Oliver asked, as he climbed on his bike, started it up and sped away.

"A little after seven, when's your hot date?" she asked.

"Seven," he answered gruffly.

"Diggle helped me get your change of clothes ready, we went with jeans, a white t-shirt and that grey knitted sweater you look so good in," her voice sounded far away.

"Felicity..." he warned.

"Crap, if it's any consolation, Diggle agrees with me," she offered, a teasing tone to her voice.

Oliver cleared his throat as he turned into the car park.

"How far out are you?" Felicity asked, he could hear her tapping away on her keyboard, no doubt tracking everything about Pippa she could get her hands on, much to Oliver's apprehension. It had been three weeks since the Hood questioned Pippa, and Oliver was more and more inclined to disagree with Felicity's and Diggle's accusations.

"About five seconds," he punched in the code for the door and entered, flying down the stairs.

"Jesus, you're like a ninja," she grabbed her chest.

Oliver plucked his dark jeans off the pile and went to change into them, returning shirtless.

"Another look that I appreciate along with the grey sweater," she whispered, watching him pull the white t-shirt over his head.

"Pardon, Felicity?" he asked as his head popped out the top.

"Nothing," she shook her head to clear all the even slightly dirty thoughts of Oliver out. "I mean, enjoy your night."

"Uh huh," he nodded, slipping his feet into his boots and plucking his phone, wallet and car keys from the table.

"Bye," she called after him as he jogged up the stairs. He stopped, turned and moved quickly back down the stairs towards Felicity.

"Thank you for all your help, Felicity," he kissed the part in the top of her hair and was gone before she opened her eyes again.

Oliver was apologetic for the first ten minutes he sat at the table in Chef's Choice Chinese restaurant with Pippa. She smiled and assured him that it was okay. They ordered too much food, but ate it all anyway, and downed about a dozen Tsingtaos between them.

"You are quite the impressive beer drinker," Oliver smiled, as Pippa put her empty beer bottle back on the table.

"Hey, Australian," she pointed to herself, and then ran her fingers through her hair, untangling a few knots along the way.

"What's your story, Pippa?" Oliver asked soberly.

"Very boring, that's what it is," she broke eye contact with Oliver.

"Try me."

Pippa fumbled with a hair tie around her wrist as she swept her long curly hair up into a bun. She cleared her throat, closed her eyes and then looked back at Oliver.

"I met a wonderful man at a coffee shop in Canberra during my first year at university. I was nineteen and he was twenty two and I fell for him ridiculously quick. He worked for the government and he was big and strong, with a little bit of bad boy in him," Pippa smiled. "I was three months pregnant when we got married. We named the baby Joseph, Joe for short."

"That's nice," Oliver smiled, trying to pretend that he didn't know all this already.

"When Joe was two months old, his dad, my husband, he left to do some work overseas, his plane was shot down and I never heard from him again," Pippa shrugged.

"Oh, Pippa," Oliver sighed.

Pippa's mobile rang and she glanced at the number.

"Sorry, I have to take this," she whispered regretfully and stood up, taking the phone with her.

Oliver watched as she stepped outside the restaurant, putting the phone to her ear.

A smile came across her face and he watched her talk animatedly. It was a short conversation and she returned, tugging at her cardigan.

"Sorry, that was my nanny," she flashed a smile.

"Like, your grandma?" Oliver asked.

"What? No, like my long term babysitter. She helps me out with Joe during the week and when I need to work late and on weekends. But you raise a good point, I also call my grandma Nanny, well, up until when I was about ten I did. She's just Nan now. Nanny is an endearing term though, isn't it? I heard a kid in the street the other day yell out 'Hey, G'maw!' to this little old lady. G'maw, can you believe it?"

"How old is Joe?" Oliver asked, grinning wildly at her digression from the original line of conversation.

"He's nearly seven."

"More like his Dad, or you?"

"He looks like his Dad, which is both amazing and heartbreaking, but he's very much like me. Quiet, unless he's nervous, then he babbles," she smiled, shaking her head.

"What did you call it the first time we met, squawking...?"

"Flapping."

"That's right."

"Anyway, Kelly, the nanny, was just ringing to say that she was going to stay the night. She's got a class tomorrow and my place is closer than her parents place."

The waitress came over at that moment, placing the bill on the table.

"Xie xie," Oliver thanked her.

She bowed slightly and left.

"Let me get this," Oliver assured Pippa, seeing her reach for her handbag.

"Oh, no, really," Pippa rushed.

"I insist, you can get me a coffee next time we literally run into each," he told her.

Pippa finally let him place a bundle of bills on the silver tray and they both stood to leave.

"Do you want me to walk you home?" he asked, shrugging into his black coat, as Pippa did the same.

"I'm fine, it's a short walk, I've gotten over my little vigilante panic," she grinned.

"If you're sure," Oliver held the door open for her.

They lingered out the front of the restaurant for a few minutes, chatting idly. Pippa didn't step back when Oliver confidently stepped within her bubble. He kissed her softly, a hand wrapping around her neck. When the broke away from each other, they were both smiling. But Pippa had sadness in her eyes.

"You kiss just like him," she said, before leaning back in to peck his cheek. "Good night, Oliver."

"Night," Oliver replied wistfully, unlocking his car and climbing in.

He sat there for a good ten minutes, verbally reprimanding himself, before his phone rang.

"What?" he barked.

"I take it your date went wonderfully," he could almost hear the smile on Felicity's face.

"Have you got something?" he asked.

"The call she received was from her nanny, 18 year old Kelly Clifton. She's staying the night in Pippa's guest bedroom because she h-"

"Because she has a class close by tomorrow, I know," Oliver finished.

"Oh, hang on, there's a call coming through to her phone right now," Felicity fingers were a flurry of activity.

"Tap me in," Oliver asked, and almost immediately heard ringing in his ears.

"Hello?" Pippa answered, a little unsure.

"Darling girl," a huskily accented voice that was all too familiar to Oliver murmured. "It's me, I'm coming."

* * *

**Alright. There you have. The proverbial shit is about to hit the fan. I hope this is still keeping you guys interested...? I am thankful for the new followers. I can't believe people are still finding this story! Thank you! **

**Just a little question for you guys though...? Is there anything specifically you guys want to see written in here? I'm always taking on suggestions and if it fits will definitely try and get it in there! Leave a review or send me a message!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Here is a little something to get you (and me) through until I manage to strike out the next chapter.**

* * *

"Dammit!" Oliver raged, throwing his sticks to the floor.

Diggle, who had long given up sparring with him, allowed Felicity to change the icepack he was holding to his ribs.

"Why are you not surprised by any of this, Oliver?" Felicity asked, "this wouldn't be the first time that a girl you were in to went rogue."

She sat on the silver table next to Diggle, crossing her ankles and pushing her glasses up her nose.

"I just, I wanted so badly for," Oliver paused, took a deep breath and continued, "One day, I wanted to be able to tell her that her supposedly dead husband was a good guy."

"Woah, hold on there, Casanova, you were seriously thinking that far ahead with this girl?" Felicity scoffed.

"You still can," Diggle offered, seeing that Oliver had chosen to ignore Felicity.

"What if Slade has just tracked me down? I wouldn't be hard to find," Oliver suggested.

"Well why didn't Little Miss just come out and tell you?" Felicity spat.

Felicity was seething, unable to process why Oliver was still making excuses for Pippa and everything that she had done, everything that she had hidden. It was bad enough that Oliver had gone to Pippa's house when he was hurt, risking everything, now, he was still defending her despite the fact that her web of lies was starting to become more and more apparent. But as Oliver had pointed out on numerous occasions, Pippa hadn't actually made any real effort to go after Oliver. She had never intentionally sought him out, questioned him, done anything to make them think she wasn't just here by some big coincidence.

But all that was evidence to the contrary in and of itself.

"Something's got to be going on, though, I don't want or need Pippa or Slade to know that I'm the Hood," Oliver was pacing, playing with his earlobe.

"What's to say they don't already know?" Felicity shrugged.

Oliver stopped dead in his tracks and glared at her.

"Alright, I take it all back, but I'm reserving I Told You So rights for when this all pans out."

"Felicity," Diggle warned, seeing Oliver continue his pacing with renewed vigor.

"Dig," Oliver started, "you should head home, get some rest, I'm sorry about..."

John eased himself off the table, grateful to leave the tension in the basement.

"I'll see you two tomorrow," he said, heading up the stairs.

"Bye," Felicity waved.

Oliver was still huffing and puffing from his unnecessary workout and Felicity walked over to him with a water bottle. He paused mid turn and accepted it, an apologetic look on his face.

"Why has this girl got you in such a tizzy?" Felicity asked quietly.

"Tizzy?"

"Don't avoid the question," Felicity folded her arms across her chest, one foot tapping impatiently.

"She was intriguing, she was this babbling beauty, one of very select few who knew what it was like to lose someone to Lian Yu," Oliver wasn't actually looking at Felicity anymore, instead he was focused on something over her shoulder.

"Oliver."

"She was just like you, only she didn't know the monster I had become."

Felicity was rendered practically speechless for the first time in as long as she could remember.

"Just like me?" she squeaked.

Oliver snapped back to reality, his hard eyes set on Felicity's.

"Oliver, you're scaring me," Felicity took a step back as Oliver closed the distance between them.

"I'm sorry, Felicity, it's just everything is going wrong."

This could have meant anything. And Felicity, despite her motherly instincts, did not want to question what exactly he meant and open that can of worms.

"Oliver, I-"

"It was fine in the beginning. I was doing all this on my own. I was the only one to get hurt out of all this. Then I dragged Dig into it, nearly gotten him killed on numerous occasions. And then you, Felicity, I've nearly gotten you killed."

"You know what, before you go all woe is me, I'm going to need some wine, so I'm gonna run upstairs, grab some, and we can talk. Oliver, I want you to talk to me. You need to talk to someone."

She turned to go but he grabbed her. She glanced down at his vice like grip.

"Maybe I don't need wine then," she forced a smile.

Oliver's attitude towards her had darkened drastically in the last minute or so and she went through all the training scenarios in her head. None of them were even remotely familiar to the situation she found herself in. The only thing she could think of was a kick to the shin and a fist to the nose. That was basic self defense. But Oliver's reactions times would be far from basic. And in the dangerous mood he was currently in, Felicity was surprised he hadn't sensed what she was thinking and put her on the floor already.

She shook her head, hoping he didn't hear that last thought. She was tired and she was aching from having been sat at a desk since seven that morning. The last thing she needed was to be thrown to the floor, especially without a mat underneath her.

Felicity cursed herself again and focused back on Oliver, his breathing was calming and his eyes returning to their charming blue colour. Maybe he had sensed that he'd scared her.

"I should have kissed you before I dragged you into this mess," he placed his hands firmly on her shoulders.

"I'm sorry, what?" Felicity wasn't sure if she'd heard him correctly.

"I should have taken you out, treated you like you deserved to be treated, which, by the way, is not squirreled away down here every night with dodgy Chinese and my tales of self loathing," he stepped closer, their chests touching.

What Felicity did next took them both by surprise.

She put her hands on his chest and, with as much force as she could gather from all 5'5", pushed him backwards.

"Do you hear yourself right now, Oliver?" she shrieked.

"Felicity," he said in disbelief.

"No. Don't you dare 'Felicity' me. No. Oliver. Just, no. I have worked so hard to try and push down EVERYTHING that I felt for you. And then you come out with this 'I should have kissed you' bull?"

Oliver went to speak but Felicity wasn't done yet.

"You had a thousand opportunities to kiss me!" she threw her hands in the air and then stormed past him to her desk, picking up her coat and her bag and making her way to the exit. "So don't go throwing stuff like that around because you're sad that another one of your girl crushes turned out to be a psychotic little so and so."

Her footfalls were heavy on the stairs, her sobs louder, and once she got to the top she reefed the door open and slammed it shut behind her.

Oliver stared at the door for a few minutes, wishing Felicity to return. When she didn't, he pulled out his phone and sent a message.

_I need to see you_. Was all the text message said.

_Front door is unlocked. _Came the reply.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello! I've just gotten back from a beautiful weekend in the city with the boy. I sometimes wish we lived up there but then we come back down south to the coast and I can't imagine living anywhere else! **

**I also came home to a handful of lovely reviews, so thank you.**

* * *

Oliver turned the handle of the door, walking in to the quiet house. A voice called his name and he found Pippa in the kitchen, a glass of wine in her hand, one filled on the bench.

She used the base to push it towards Oliver.

He didn't pick it up, instead, crossing the kitchen to where Pippa was leaning on the bench top.

One hand went to her hip, the other to her cheek, as he pinned her effortlessly between himself and the cupboards. He pressed his lips to hers and heard Pippa blindly place the wine glass on the countertop.

She felt so different to Laurel, who was petite and had curves in all the right places. Pippa, on the other hand, was all arms and legs, skinny to the point of boney, but with a frame of solid muscle.

Oliver lifted her up onto the bench, a quiet, surprised gasp coming from Pippa. She had her hands on his chest and moved them up over his shoulders, one going to the back of Oliver's neck, the other running swiftly down his arm to his elbow.

"Oliver, my son and my nanny are upstairs," she breathed into his mouth.

"So, we'll stay downstairs," his reply came instantly, his fingers playing with the bottom of her shirt.

"Okay," Pippa whispered, nodding.

* * *

"I've got to take the dog out, I'll be fifteen minutes or so," Pippa whispered, leaning over a still dozing Oliver, her curls tickling his face as much as her lips had.

"A'right," he smacked his lips together, his mouth dry.

"There's a glass of water on the coffee table," she smiled and then left with a dog lead in hand.

As soon as she was gone, Oliver threw back the granny square blanket and found his jeans and his shirt. He padded around the living room, looking at photos and books. Finding nothing of interest, he moved towards the dining room, passing through the entrance hall.

"Who are you?" came a young, but confident voice.

A young boy in blue pyjamas was half way up the stairs.

"Hey, I'm, um, I'm a friend of your mums," Oliver explained.

"My mum doesn't have friends," the boy replied.

"She does now," Oliver smiled, "I'm Oliver."

"My name is Joe," the skinny kid with a barrel chest held the railing as he came down to the entrance hall, a plastic sword in the other hand.

"It's lovely to meet you Joe."

"My dad used to have a friend named Oliver," Joe sat on the bottom step.

Oliver cleared his throat, sitting down next to Joe.

"Did he just?"

"Yep," Joe nodded enthusiastically, "he used to tell me all these stories about how he and Oliver used to take out all the baddies, him with a sword, like this one," he put the toy scabbard in Oliver's lap, "and Oliver with a bow and arrow."

"What else did your Dad say about Oliver?"

"Not much. Just that one day he'd have to find him," Joe shrugged.

"When did you last see your Dad?" Oliver pressed.

"When I turned 6," he looked a little sad, then, like any other child, he seemed to forget his sadness, his dark eyes lighting up. "Do you know how to use a sword?"

"Ha, of course I do! What man doesn't?" Oliver smiled.

"Do you want a sword fight?"

Oliver nodded and Joe jumped up.

"Wait right here, I'll have to get another sword," Joe said sternly and then excitedly ran up the stairs.

The front door opened and Pippa, now with her hair pulled back, came in with a big dog.

"What are you still doing here?" she hissed, taking the dog off the lead. It trotted up to Oliver, who could see the shiny name tag read 'Trevor'.

"Hey Trev," he patted the dog, then turned his attention to Pippa, "Joe wanted to sword fight, I thought I'd entertain him until you came back."

"Well, I'm back, no entertaining needed," she tucked a stray curl behind her ear.

Kelly came bouncing down the stairs, coming to an abrupt halt when she saw Oliver.

"Sorry, didn't realise anyone was here, I was just coming down to grab some coffee before I left," she smiled and adjusted the strap of her bag.

"It's not a problem, Kelly, I put some coffee on before I took Trevor out," Pippa returned the smile, although hers was forced.

Kelly continued down the stairs, well aware of the tension and the deafening silence in the entry hall. She was nearly in the kitchen when she turned back around.

"Um, Joe is just getting dressed, I thought I'd drop him at Tim's house on my way to my exam."

"Sounds wonderful."

Trevor followed Kelly into the kitchen and Pippa continued to stare at Oliver.

"Are you alright?" Oliver raised an eyebrow.

Pippa cleared her throat and nodded.

Joe came bounding down the stairs before Oliver could call her bluff.

"Oliver, I'm going to my friend Tim's house, but maybe we can sword fight another day?"

"Sure, buddy!"

"Awesome!"

Kelly came out of the kitchen and picked up Joe's overnight bag.

"Ready, little man?" she asked.

Joe nodded excitedly and followed her to the door.

"Bye, mum!" he stopped and wrapped his arms around Pippa's waist.

"See you tomorrow, Joe," she whispered tenderly, kissing the top of his head.

The door finally closed and Pippa turned back to Oliver, who was still sitting on the stairs.

"So, you sure you're okay?" he probed again, standing.

"If you ask me that one more, I will blow my stack," she informed him.

"If it's about you feeling guilty, feeling like you've betrayed your husband-"

Oliver was cut off by a surprisingly forceful punch to his jaw.

"You do not know the first thing about my husband!" Pippa yelled.

"Pippa," it took a second for Oliver to get over his initial shock, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out that way."

"What way did you intend it to come out, exactly?"

"I'm feeling guilty too, because of Laurel, because of Felicity," he explained.

"That makes it a whole lot better than, doesn't it? My being third in line on Oliver Queen's booty call list."

Oliver set his mouth in a straight line, watching as Pippa ran her tongue along her teeth.

Their staring competition last a few minutes before Pippa's shoulders finally sagged.

"I guess I'll be seeing you around," she sighed, heading to the kitchen to fix herself some coffee.

Oliver sat back down on the stairs, waiting. It didn't take long for him to realise that she didn't want to see or talk to him again.

"I guess," he whispered to himself, closing the front door behind him.


	11. Chapter 11

**This is not where I thought I'd be come Chapter 11, but hopefully it's still a good place.**

* * *

Pippa's knuckles were numb from the icepack she had pressed her fist into, and she awkwardly turned the page of the newspaper.

She didn't end up going in to work that morning, calling in sick. She technically wasn't supposed to work Saturdays, but thought it set her in good stead with the boss. She had a log on to work from home and promised to look over a few case reports in time for Monday.

"Fat chance," she scoffed to herself as she went over the conversation in her head.

She intended on spending the rest of the day catching up on housework, but then thought better of that, choosing instead to watch a movie. Closing all the curtains in the house and turning off all the lights, she had hunkered down with a few hired DVDs.

When her stomach growled in empty protest midway through the third movie, she ignored it. But when the credits rolled and she was convinced her stomach was eating itself, she got up to make herself some lunch.

Which is why she now found herself, still hungry, nursing a sore hand and reading an outdated paper.

"Who'd you hit?" came a voice from the doorway.

She glanced up. "Oliver Queen."

An impressed grunt came from the man, who hadn't moved. He was stood with his hands in his pockets, feet apart. She swore that if there'd been a bench there, he'd be pressing his hips into it.

The squeak of the bar stool, quickly followed by the crash as it hit the ground were the only indicators that Pippa had moved, because the next thing he knew, she was in his arms.

"Darling girl," he took her face in his hands, running his thumbs along her cheekbones.

"You grew your hair," she smiled, running her hands over Slade's slightly dirty hair that was pulled back in a sleek bun. She thumbed the salt and pepper at his temples, "Always knew you'd end up going gray like your dad."

"You haven't changed a bit," a smile played on his lips.

She pressed her body right up against his, an almost forgotten familiarity in the curve of his lower back as searching hands found bare skin. Her fingers felt something foreign on his skin.

"You're hurt?" she whispered, following the outline of the bandage over his ribs.

"Nothing a bit of time with you wouldn't fix," he sighed.

"What happened?" she asked him.

"The pirates I stowed away with took a disliking to me, you know, I'm just that kind of person," he shrugged.

"Do you want me to take a look at it?"

He shook his head, still cradling her cheek in his hand. She turned her head slightly and kissed the inside of his wrist.

"Let's just sit down, have a cup of coffee, talk about what's been going on," he soothed.

* * *

"Do you often speak to my sister?" Slade asked, stacking all the information they had been pouring over for the past two hours in a neat pile in front of him.

"Occasionally."

"How is she doing?"

"Still at a loss as to what happened to Billy," Pippa shrugged, "I don't think it went how she planned it to."

"Does she know it was me that killed him?"

Pippa shook her head, "I don't think so."

"Well, if she hadn't gotten herself so tangled up in everything," Slade's eyes darkened and he pushed the cold coffee away from him. "I can't believe the two of them were in it together."

"We don't know that," Pippa chided.

"Fyers was working for someone, Pip," a stern finger dug into the counter, "and everything I have found out in the past couple of years has pointed to her."

"I just can't see her allowing everything that happened to go down, especially if she knew you and Billy were on Lian Yu."

Pippa's phone rang and she quickly silenced it, not even glancing at the caller ID. She reached across the breakfast bar and placed her hand on his.

Slade met Pippa's pleading eyes.

He had been stowing away on merchant ships, mostly navy and commercial fishing vessels, for the past two years, struggling to get anywhere in his mission to discover who was behind the corruption on Lian Yu.

He'd most recently been in South Africa, where the trail of evidence led him to Bloemfontein and the discovery that his sister, Rose was working for an organization that was responsible for the happenings on Lian Yu. Bill Wintergreen, her husband and Slade's ASIS partner, was a name that was also thrown around in the confusion.

"This is all a bunch of bull," he stood up quickly.

"Slade," Pippa started.

"No, I don't understand how Billy could have been involved in all of this, how Rose could have been involved? None of it makes any sense? Why, when we crashed on that bloody island, didn't he do something about getting us off there straight away? Unless..."

"No, Slade, don't go there," Pippa warned him, ignoring her ringing phone again.

"He was the one making the radio calls, he was the one who knew the codes, what if he gave them the wrong code, on purpose? That's as good a reason as any to shoot our plane down. God, I'm such an idiot!" he slammed his open palm down on the counter top.

Pippa rubbed her lips together, watching as the man she loved crumbled, seemingly broken beyond repair.

"What if he was on their side from the beginning, Pip?"

"I don't think so, Slade, really?"

"Everything from South Africa until now says otherwise."

Pippa's phone rang for the third time, the frustrating Apple ringtone seemed to make Slade angrier.

"It's Oliver," she said.

"Answer it, get him over here," he turned away from her.

"Sl-"

"I mean it," he spun back around and pointed at her

* * *

Pippa opened the door to Oliver who looked every bit the playboy, in his dark jeans, white collared shirt and blue knit. His eyes gave it away though. They were set hard and firm on her, a gray color, not his usual brilliant blue, dark circles belied his normally youthful appearance.

"Why did it take so long for you to tell me?" he hissed, stepping right into her so their chests touched. He watched her, his peripheral vision on high alert, waiting for another fist to connect with his already tender jaw.

"There were a lot of things that I needed to confirm first."

"Where is he?" Oliver demanded.

"Here," came Slade's voice from the lounge room.

Oliver realized that his old friend had been standing just on the outer of his tangential vision and sighed. He was always one to get the better of him.

Pippa cleared her throat as Oliver stepped past her, the warmth of his body and its sudden disappearance making her shiver.

Both men had their fists clenched as Oliver approached.

"I thought you were dead," Oliver surprised them both with his gentle words.

"Not hardly," Slade grinned in reply.

He put his hand out and Oliver tentatively reached out for a firm handshake.

"Come and sit, boy, we've got a lot to talk about."

* * *

**So there you go. Is this going to work? Or will it all go to custard?**


	12. Chapter 12

**We're going to jump forward a few weeks here. This chapter lends itself for conclusions to be drawn as to what happened in the interim.**

* * *

Pippa leant against the red brick wall out the back of Verdant. It was late, nearing nine and she was getting impatient. The thought had crossed her mind to bang on the heavy steel door and raise holy hell until Felicity came upstairs, but she decided that it probably wasn't the best first impression to give the tiny blonde, although Pippa was sure she had already made up her mind.

Oliver's motorbike screeched into the car park, followed by Diggle's sleek black car.

Pippa pushed herself off the wall and waited with her arms folded.

"You guys took your time," she scoffed, "I've already been to the scene."

"We had something else to finish on the way home," Oliver replied bluntly.

He punched the code in, putting himself between the numbered pad and Pippa, not allowing her to see it.

"Where's Slade?" she asked.

"He went straight home," Diggle said, squeezing past her to get to the door.

"I've been trying to call him but I haven't heard anything back," she explained, "Was he okay when he left?"

"Seemed to be, we had to leave pretty quickly," Oliver replied from halfway down the stairs.

Diggle looked expectantly at her, holding the door open, motioning for her to follow. She could have just as easily gone home, now that she knew Slade wasn't with them. But curiosity got the better of her.

She ducked inside and the door slammed behind her.

"Felicity," Oliver hollered.

"Yep, here, present," she came quickly from a different room of the basement.

"You know Pippa?" he asked, motioning to the long legged red head that was cautiously making her way down the stairs.

"Uh, yep, hi," Felicity rung her hands and waved.

Pippa nodded and smiled, taking in the surroundings.

"Welcome to the Arrow Cave," Felicity tried to start a conversation.

"Thanks, it's bigger than I thought it'd be, and this," she motioned to the computer set up, "this is very impressive."

"Thank you, you should have seen it when I first started working for Oliver, the set up was way back in the late 90s," Felicity grinned, and then winced when she caught the evil eye from Oliver.

"Terrifying," Pippa ran her fingers over the top of the monitor.

"You have no idea."

"You track everybody on this?" Pippa asked.

"Yep, just to make sure everyone is where they are meant to be, you know, make sure that nobody has gone rogue, not that anyone would go rogue, right? We're all in this together."

"Pretty sure there is a song about that," Diggle returned to the main room.

Felicity and Pippa raised an eyebrow each at him.

"What? AJ has a heap of friends that are girls, don't judge," he scoffed.

Pippa stood in silence as Felicity and Diggle traded their version of tonight's events. Cherry Noller was the leader of the Four Horsemen drug cartel that ran primarily out of the Glades selling a lethal version of cocaine in large amounts.

"Can you see if Slade made it home tonight?" Pippa spoke up during a longer silence, turning her attention back to Felicity and her computers.

"Sure," Felicity plopped herself down in the black chair and tapped away quickly. "Looks like he did, the GPS in his phone is pinging at your address."

Pippa pulled her phone out of her pocket and glanced at the screen which notified her of no new messages or missed calls.

"Mmm," she sighed.

"You were lead at the crime scene right?" Felicity spoke up, swivelling around in her chair.

Pippa nodded.

"So you'll be running the blood samples taken from the scene then?"

"Most probably," Pippa nodded, knowing where this conversation was going. "We did collect a lot of Cherry Noller's blood, but there was at least one male sample collected."

"Could be any of us," Oliver returned, a bad cut on his left arm that was held close to his side.

"Holy crap!" Felicity jumped up.

"It's okay, not very deep, just bled a lot," he sat down and let John tend to it.

"I'll make sure the male sample disappears," Pippa assured them.

"Thanks," Oliver nodded. Pippa could see the discomfort on his face. She would have put it down to the gaping slice in his arm, but she had seen it on his face ever since their dalliance the day before Slade arrived. She hadn't been able to get him alone to talk about it.

"Alright, well, I'll get going and go home and check on Slade," Pippa tucked her phone away, turning to leave.

"It was nice to meet you," Felicity smiled, "I'll buzz you out."

"Thanks, you too," Pippa paused in her departure.

"Night Pippa," John called, although it was drowned out by an annoyed and agonized hiss from Oliver.

* * *

"Slade?" Pippa called the minute she opened the door.

"Ssh, Joe's in bed," she heard him called from the kitchen.

"Why haven't you answered my calls?" she raced off to her right, finding Slade leaning heavily on the bench. She hung her bag on one of the breakfast stools.

"I'm sorry," was all Slade could manage.

"You're sorry? Are you kidding me?"

"Darling girl, Joe is asleep, please, ssh," he whispered.

"You could have sent me a message!" Pippa was blind to Slade's ashen appearance and quick breaths, the anger she felt at being ignored too much for her to stop and look at him even a second.

"I'm sure Oliver and John filled you in, there's not much I can add."

"Are you okay?" she asked after a brief pause. The long sentence Slade had just spoken seemed to exacerbate his already noticeable symptoms.

"Yeah, I'm alright," but he wouldn't look her in the eye.

"There was blood all over the scene and it wasn't Noller's."

"Jesus, Pippa," he breathed out heavily, her name almost inaudible as he sank to the kitchen floor.

"Slade, are you okay? Slade!" she raced around the breakfast bar and knelt next to him. His right arm was wrapped around his stomach and a limp hand, sticky and red, had fallen away from a very obvious knife wound in his left side.

Pippa put a hand on Slade's thigh, his legs splayed out in front of him. His slouched form was lifeless and Pippa had to use her body weight to pull him back upright and towards her.

She felt his forehead press against her shoulder and a tormented moan pushed hot breath on her arm.

"Slade, open your eyes," she cupped his face.

His lips were parted slightly, and she returned his head to her shoulder, holding him close with one hand while she pulled her phone out of her back pocket with the other.

"Everything alright?"

"Oliver, Slade's hurt, and my first aid kit doesn't cover deep stab wounds and internal bleeding."

"I'm on my way," Oliver stated before Pippa had even finished the sentence.


	13. Chapter 13

**'Final Chapter' is waiting patiently in my document manager. This brings us one step closer.**

* * *

Oliver and John pushed the already ajar door open.

"Pippa?" Oliver called.

"Here, Oliver, please."

Oliver motioned for Diggle to follow and they found Pippa on her knees next to Slade. She had laid him on his back, a blanket thrown over him, a lounge cushion under his head, a blood soaked tea towel pushed firmly against his side.

"I know what to do, I just don't have anything to do it with," Pippa sighed, wiping her forehead on her shoulder.

Oliver sighed with her, reaching her in seconds, replacing her hands with his gloved ones.

"Oliver, I can do it," Pippa insisted, worry and impatience setting her on edge.

"Pippa," Oliver looked at her, his face impossible to read but full of conviction, "I've got this, I promise you."

Pippa nodded, standing up, her knees cracking as she did.

"Is Joe here?" Diggle asked.

"Yeah, but he's asleep, dead to the world," Pippa assured him.

"Dig," Oliver requested with urgency in his voice.

Diggle was stooped down next to Oliver almost instantly, their shoulders brushing as they talked in hushed voices. Pippa wiped her hands on the front of her trousers.

Oliver called her name without turning around, holding an empty syringe out to her.

She grabbed it and sat down at Slade's head, pushing his shirt out of the way and feeling in between his ribs. Having found the intercostal space she was looking for, she apologized under her breath and stuck the long needle in. A whoosh of air was heard and Oliver nodded at her.

"Good job," Diggle smiled at her. She noticed that he was busy mixing up some herbs in a cup of water, his hands a frenzy as he added dried leaves in varying amounts from little pouches.

Oliver was cleaning the wound in Slade's chest and didn't take his eyes off the tangle of muscles and skin when he spoke.

"Wake him up," he ordered.

Pippa scooted around and placed a palm on Slade's cheek.

"Babe?" she whispered.

"You'll have to try harder than that," Oliver hissed.

"Come on," she said loudly, "Slade, wake up."

"Pippa," Oliver warned.

"I'm trying, Oliver, just lay off!" she nearly shouted.

Oliver poked a gloved finger inside the knife wound.

Slade's eyes shot open, a heartbreaking roar of pain making Pippa flinch. She grabbed his face firmly and held it close to her own. His breaths were short and fast, gasping, his teeth gritted together, face slick with an instant sweat.

Diggle passed her the cup and she held it to his mouth, he accepted it, pulling a face as he swallowed. She continued to offer it to him until it was gone. He was now breathing a little easier and seemed to be in less pain.

"He's still bleeding too much," Oliver spoke up, pressing hard on the gash, "he's going to need a transfusion once Diggle stitches him up, we haven't had a chance to collect any of his blood yet."

"We're the same blood type," Pippa rushed.

Diggle was tearing open a packet of what Pippa soon realized was a suture kit. Oliver was digging through the impressive first aid bag, pulling out tubing, tape and needles.

"Darling girl?" Slade spoke softly.

"I'm right here, John's gonna stitch you up and you're gonna be fine," she smiled.

Oliver could see the look in his eyes, he had a joke he wanted to tell, something to ease Pippa's panic, but he couldn't, he was almost delirious with shock and his eyes were unfocused, despite him manically looking around the kitchen, trying to ascertain his surroundings.

"Start," Oliver set his gaze on Diggle.

* * *

"Hey," a comforting hand on her cheek pulled Pippa from her fitful sleep.

She soon came to realize that her bum was numb and her back ached from being pressed against the kitchen cupboards. Oliver was rubbing his thumb over her cheek with one hand, the other rested on her forearm.

"You're okay," he assured her, "You're just a little drowsy."

"What time is it?" she asked, glancing down at Slade, whose head was resting on her thigh.

"A little after three in the morning," he replied, sitting down next to her, close enough to be able to hold her hand.

"How is he?"

"He's getting there, I just got rid of the transfusion tubing, he's stopped bleeding, seems a better color."

Oliver had a thousand questions for Pippa. About Slade, about Rose, about Joe, everything. He still didn't trust Slade and Pippa. He didn't trust anyone. But these two, with their private ways and mystery pasts didn't help their case by being secretive in the quest for information about Lian Yu.

What did Slade intend to do with his sister once he was 100% certain that she was the employer that Fyers spoke of? Did he intend to anything?

And Pippa.

He was 100% uncertain about her. He was good at reading faces, but hers, he found himself unable to be objective. It was just so delicate.

As if reading his mind, Pippa spoke up.

"I'm sorry about what happened between us," she whispered.

"Don't be sorry."

"I'm a terrible person, I knew that Slade was coming, and yet I let it happen," she sounded sorrowful.

Oliver closed his eyes, leaning his head back on the cupboards. He wasn't going to lie to her and say that it was nothing. It was something. There'd been few women he trusted himself with, and she had been one of them. Had.

He had seen her go from the rambling awkwardness of their first meeting to a stoney faced business woman to a caring wife and mother. He couldn't work her out.

_A woman is always a mystery,_ Oliver remembered his Dad telling him once, _one must not be fooled by her face and her hearts inspiration._

"You didn't let anything happen, it just happened, I don't think you could have stopped it, I didn't want to stop it, I let it happen just as much as you," he finally replied.

"How much has Slade filled you in on Rose?" she abruptly changed the subject.

"Not as much as I'd like," Oliver said, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

Pippa spoke for nearly an hour and a half without taking breath. She told Oliver of Slade's plans to find Rose, who had all but disappeared off the face of the earth. Pippa got phone calls here and there, just letting her know that she was alive, but she didn't say much in the way of where she was or what she was doing. Pippa explained that Rose had been married to Billy for a few years before their fateful accident on Lian Yu. When she had said the word 'accident' she had used air quotes and scoffed.

Oliver began to think that he was the only one who ended up on that island by mistake. He was supposed to die when the Queen's Gambit went down. The fact that he had made it to the life raft, and eventually the island, seemed to be Fyer's employer's biggest hurdle.

And if that employer was Rose Wintergreen (née Wilson) than Oliver was tempted to leave it all to Slade. But he didn't know how impartial Slade was going to be when it came down to the confrontation. He knew that Slade had a good moral and ethical code. Would that be his downfall when Rose was eventually found?

"I have a confession to make," Pippa cleared her throat.

"Oh?" Oliver looked at her, raising an eyebrow.

"I was going to kill you the night that you turned up on my doorstep after you were supposedly mugged."

Oliver dropped her hand, squinting at her as if he almost couldn't believe it.

"Probably the wrong way to go about bringing it up, but I wanted to lay everything on the table, seeing as we were half way there anyways," she shrugged.

"Why?"

"Who knows?" she shrugged again, "I was angry that you had spent more time with my husband than I had, that you seemed to have this kinship with him, like you bonded on the island, for god sake, I've been married to him for seven and a half years, and I've lived with him for 18 months!"

Oliver pursed his lips.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I have the worst jealously streak known to man. And what you're doing is amazing, completely amazing, I'm jealous I can't join in."

Oliver was looking down at his hands. Maybe he would get her to join them. She was strong and could throw a hell of a punch. He smiled to himself as he rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. It would be a good way to keep an eye on her. Make sure her threats didn't extend past being just that.

"Please don't let this be a reflection on Slade," she stroked the hair of the still unconscious man in her lap.

"I won't, and thank you for not killing me, I'm glad I got to sleep with you first," he grinned, nudging her with his shoulder.

A smile spread unwillingly across Pippa's face, the corners of her mouth twitching as she tried to look serious, "I still could you know, and make it look like an accident."

"That'll come in handy one day, we might need something like that."

Slade's stirring during an extended silence pulled both Pippa and Oliver from their thoughts. They watched as he opened his eyes, bleary and bright from a low grade fever.

"I owe you one," he looked at Oliver.

Oliver held up two fingers, a knowing smile on both their lips.


	14. Chapter 14

**A little bit of Olicity for those who have been asking. Not much, but hey.**

* * *

Felicity found herself sitting on Oliver's desk. Not hers. Oliver's. Upstairs from the bar and the dance floor. Her ankles were crossed and she swung them back and forth lightly as she waited impatiently.

He opened the door and stopped, his eyebrows hiking up his forehead in surprise.

"Felicity," he broke out his trademark smile, the one she had come to known as his uncomfortable-but-can't-show-it grin.

"How's Slade?" she asked.

"Getting there," he replied, walking over to sit down heavily in the leather armchair.

"And Pippa?"

"I'm thinking of getting her in to do some training, she's seriously strong," Oliver tested.

"Sure."

Oliver tried to hide the surprised look on his face.

"Oh come on," Felicity argued, "like that wasn't going to happen."

"I just thought, given what you thought of her to begin with, that you would think it was a bad idea."

"Of course I think it's a bad idea! The only good thing to come of this is that you can keep a closer eye on her!" Felicity exclaimed.

"My thoughts exactly."

Felicity clicked her tongue nervously and Oliver's steady gaze came to rest on the petite blonde's legs. Her skirt was hitched up slightly, probably from when she slid up onto his desk, and he took in her almost translucent skin, the pale blue veins trailing up her thighs.

"What are you doing up here, Felicity?" he asked, shaking his head slightly.

"The more important question is, what are you doing up here?" she replied, not missing a beat.

"It's my office...?" he replied, as if her question shouldn't need to be answered.

"You haven't been down to the basement all night?"

"Felicity, I-"

"And I need to talk to you about something."

Oliver stayed silent, motioning for her to carry on.

"Do you remember that time when you found out that Slade was coming to Starling City and you freaked out?"

_Like I could forget._

"And remember how I freaked out and told you in my loud voice that under no uncertain circumstances would I allow my feelings, the feelings that I worked so hard to curb, to be uncurbed, not a word, I know, forgive me here, I've had a few drinks while I've been waiting for you," she gestured to the private bar tucked away in the corner, "but still, remember?"

Oliver nodded.

"Are you going to say anything here?" she threw her hands in the air, letting them fall heavily into her lap.

"You told me that I had a thousand opportunities to kiss you."

Felicity cringed, closing her eyes.

"Yeah, I guess I did," she opened one eye, Oliver's amused smile waiting for her. "Did you sleep with Pippa that night?"

Oliver nodded, the smile falling from his face. There was no point in lying to Felicity, she was the only one who could see through his act.

He stood up and walked over to her, leaving a foot between them.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" he asked.

Felicity, with three vodka cranberries and the memory of words from _We Bought A Zoo_ pulsing through her, uncrossed her legs.

_You know, sometimes all you need is twenty seconds of insane courage. Just literally twenty seconds of just embarrassing bravery. And I promise you, something great will come of it._

"Well, what if opportunity one thousand and one presented itself?" she asked.

"Has it?" Oliver closed the gap in one step, Felicity's knees pressing into his thighs. She hoped that he couldn't feel her trembling. He hoped the same thing.

Felicity squeaked a confirmation, just in time for Oliver to press his lips to hers. Oliver's hips parted her legs and he cupped her face as she slid her arms around his waist, the warmth of his suit jacket a stark contrast to the air in the room, but matching the blush on her face.

"Oh my god!" a third voice came from behind Oliver and the two broke away, spinning around to find Pippa.

Felicity flailed, jumping off the desk and tugging at her skirt. Oliver wiped his mouth, spinning around with a guilty grin on his face.

Pippa slapped a hand over her eyes and blindly floundered for the door handle. Finally getting a hold of it, she stammered an apology and closed the door.

Oliver dared to sneak a glance at Felicity, who was pinker than the cardigan that was hanging from her shoulders, and giggled.

"Don't laugh," Felicity shoved him, "this whole thing took me a lot of courage, and you're giggling like a school boy!"

"I'm sorry," Oliver replied, not sorry at all, going in for another kiss.

* * *

Pippa creaked open the bedroom door, noticing Joe's empty bed. The house was quiet as she tip toed to the master bedroom.

The lamp on her side of the bed was set to the lowest illumination but she could make out Slade, propped up on two pillows with Joe nestled into his uninjured side. Seeing the two of them together tugged at her stomach and she knuckled away the tears that threatened to fall down her face.

Both of them slept with their mouths slightly open, soft snores in sync and when she lent over them to kiss their foreheads, neither of them moved.

Pippa did a quick scout around the house, closing windows, ensuring that Trevor was in his kennel in the backyard and locking the back door.

She found a note from Kelly, outlining the days occurrences.

_Slade seemed to be in a lot of pain today, but insisted that I give him a haircut. _

"But I bet he didn't bother you for some painkillers," Pippa muttered to herself, not surprised at all.

She prepared Joe's lunchbox for school the next day and put it in the fridge just as her phone alerted her to a message.

_Come to Verdant tomorrow. Bring Slade and some workout gear._

_Sure. Sorry about before._

_Are you kidding? I thought it was hilarious, but poor Felicity was about to implode with embarrassment._

She laughed to herself, heading upstairs for the final time.

Pippa shed her work clothes, slipping into silk boxers and a singlet. As she climbed in to bed, Slade stirred.

"Darling girl?" his voice was huskier than usual.

"I'm right here," she replied, adjusting the doona over the three of them, reaching for Slade's outstretched hand.

"Everything okay?" he asked, still with his eyes closed.

"Perfect."

Slade nodded and his face turned towards her as he drifted back off to sleep.

Pippa played with Slade's now short hair, smiling.

Happy that everyone had found their someone.


	15. Chapter 15

**Alright guys, just a minor warning here for a character death.**

* * *

Pippa grunted as Oliver threw her to the ground.

"Go easy," Slade warned.

"Until you're 100%, she's getting the brunt of it," Oliver reached down to help Pippa up.

Pippa turned her arm to glance at her elbow, it was split and bleeding.

"Oliver," Felicity called from the computers, motioning for him to come to her.

He lent down, one hand on the back on Felicity's chair, the other on the desk. He was aware of Pippa holding a towel to her elbow, but continued to read the information Felicity had pulled up.

"Good job," he clapped a hand down gently on her shoulder and kissed the side of her head.

"Th-thanks," she stammered, shocked by the display of affection in front of other people.

"Alright, listen up," he turned around to where he had previously been sparring with Pippa. She was sat next to Slade on the silver trolley, he had a tender hold of her wrist, examining her elbow. He was saying something softly to Pippa, who hissed a reply. The two of them turned their attention to Oliver. "Felicity has found someone entering the country under the name Stella Rose, while her hair is now black, and it appears she's wearing contacts, it looks to be Rose Wintergreen."

"When did she arrive?" Slade jumped up, wincing at his own quick movement.

"Three days ago," Felicity jumped in when Oliver turned to look at her, "she had a car booked to bring her to Starling City."

Slade and Oliver shared a look, one that said 'We've got her, she'll pay for everything she put us through'. Pippa placed a hand on Slade's shoulder, making him look at her. Her gaze said it all, too. 'If it comes to it, I'll kill her'.

Oliver checked his watch.

"I'm late for dinner with my mother, I'll see you all tomorrow afternoon, unless something comes up in the mean time," he looked at all three of them and left, pulling a shirt over his head as he jogged up the stairs.

He opened the door and reached into his pocket for his car keys.

As he went to unlock the door he heard the rev of a car engine going too fast on the neighbourhood street, a screech of tyres, and then a sickening crash. He repocketed his keys and jogged around the corner of the old building. A sleek, black sports car was reversing out of the large dent it had left in the side of a red Passat. Oliver looked at the number plate of the car that was eager to make a getaway, committing the rental number plates to memory before sprinting towards the Volkswagen.

He opened the driver's door to find a very confused teenager with a cut above her eyebrow, pinned in her seat.

"Are you okay?" he asked her.

"Oliver?" she whispered.

Then he realised who it was.

Kelly, the nanny.

"Sit tight," he glanced in the back to see Joe's tiny body twisted in the wreck that was the back of the car. His side had copped the worst of the impact. "Joe."

Oliver couldn't open the back left hand side, it was wedged against a light post. He ran around to the right side, propping his foot up on the back panel of the car, using all his weight to pull the mangled door away.

"Oh god," Oliver felt sick to his stomach. The little boy appeared to have died on impact, the funny angle at which his head was rested against his car seat the obvious cause.

"Oliver!" he heard Felicity call.

He glanced over his shoulder and Felicity must have seen the uncensored panic on his face because she came running.

"Oh my god," she brought a hand to her mouth as she peered in.

"Call an ambulance, keep Pippa and Slade in the basement," he ordered.

Felicity nodded but didn't move, her eyes on the little boy who simply appeared to be asleep, a foam sword in one hand, a suction cup arrow in the other, a toy bow on the seat beside him.

"Felicity," he barked, snapping her back to attention. He lowered his voice, realising that she was scared and emotional, "Felicity, please."

She turned around and ran the fastest that Oliver had ever seen her move. She disappeared into Verdant and Oliver turned his attention back to the two in the car.

He found a picnic blanket that had been tossed on the floor and pulled it up over Joe, glancing at Kelly, grateful that the rear view mirror had come away from the windscreen in the crash.

"Oliver? Is Joe okay?" Kelly pleas could be heard by everyone who had gathered in the street.

Oliver moved slowly back to her side of the car.

"Let's concentrate on getting you out of here, how stuck are you?" Oliver's voice was even and full of compassion.

"I-I don't know, one of my feet is stuck, the other leg is pinned between the steering wheel and the gearstick," her voice was shaking in unison with her whole body.

An elderly woman was walking towards them, a tartan blanket held out in front of her.

Oliver reached up to take it, offering a sincere thank you to her. He shook the blanket opened and gently placed it over Kelly's upper body.

"JOE!" Oliver's head snapped up at the sound of Slade's guttural howl.

"I'll be right back," he rushed, squeezing Kelly's arm.

"Slade, you don't want to see this," Oliver collared his friend as he tried to run past.

"Oliver, let me go," Slade tried to twist free of the hold that Oliver had on his sweatshirt. He succeeded only in making the stabbing pain in his side more prominent.

"Slade, just wait," Oliver levelled his gaze at him. "I'm sorry."

Slade's jaw pulsed, his wide eyes glued to Oliver's as the full meaning of _I'm sorry_ sank in.

"My son," he bawled, his head pressed against Oliver's shoulder as the young man did all he could to console him.

"Slade?"

The two men turned to look at Pippa, whose face was drained of all colour, having recognized the car involved in the collision.

She met Slade's tear filled eyes, a quiet and desperate 'no' leaving her mouth before she collapsed to her knees.

A fire engine, ambulance and police car all arrived in a flood of noise and color as Slade rushed to Pippa, falling to his knees in front of her.

"No," she repeated, as Slade reached up to touch her face.

"Darling girl," was all Slade could manage before Pippa came crashing into his chest, screaming.

"My baby boy," she howled.

Felicity stood on the pavement, chewing on her thumbnail as the firemen set about cutting the roof of the car off to help get Kelly out.

She saw Oliver sat near Joe's door, out of the way, but ever vigilant. He knew what would happen when they tried to move his body from the car.

And just as a lone paramedic unclipped Joe's belt buckle he heard Pippa shout.

"Don't touch him! Don't you dare touch my son!" she was up off the ground now, squirming her way out of Slade's half hearted grip. She came running to Oliver, her face twisted in agony.

"Pippa, they have to take him," Oliver tried to reason with her, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"No, he's my little boy, they can't take him," she adamantly shook her head.

"They have to."

Slade had joined them, clutching at his side.

"Can you do it?" she turned to her husband, her green eyes wide and full of desperation.

Oliver took a fleeting look at the paramedic, who had stepped back out of respect. He nodded and Slade walked slowly to the car, his breath hitching as he got closer. The paramedic pushed a stretcher towards him.

Slade ducked his head into the car, like he had so many times before to retrieve his son. Only this time, no arms went around his neck, he didn't try and pretend that he was glued to his seat. It was all Slade could do to pretend that Joe was pretending to be asleep so he didn't have to brush his teeth before he tucked him into bed.

He laid the limp body of his mini-me on the stretcher, brushing his dark hair off his forehead to allow him to lean in for a kiss.

"My darling boy," he sobbed, leaning on the stretcher, his head buried in the crook of his arm, as Felicity came up and placed one hand on his back, the other on his arm, helping him stand up. She pulled him into her, his rasping sobs sure to haunt her.

Behind them, Pippa collapsed into Oliver's arms, the vigilante locking eyes with Felicity and nodding, a silent oath to get revenge on whoever did this to the little boy.


	16. Chapter 16

**Second to last chapter.**

**Sorry to Kiely who has just joined me... Thank you for reviewing. **

**Also, Jadiee, you know how much I appreciate your review every chapter.**

* * *

"The car was hired out to a Stella Rose," Felicity spoke in a whisper to Oliver, watching Slade pull the blanket up over Pippa, who had finally cried herself to sleep on the floor. "I hacked into the rental database, she was supposed to return it this afternoon but a police report just filed says that it's been found burnt out on the outskirts of the Glades."

"She didn't hire it under a different fake name," Oliver stated.

"She probably thought that if we could trace her entrance to the country then once we knew that, it would be a trail for us to follow...?" Felicity offered.

"Did she leave a phone number when she hired the car?"

"Yep, but I assume that it's fake, the company and the police have been trying to call it all afternoon, nothing."

"Try it," Oliver pulled a wooden stool over to the computer desk and sat down.

The phone rang once before someone answered.

"Hello, Mr. Queen," came a voice with an accent that he had grown so used to.

"Rose," he started.

Slade looked up from where he was sat, a tumbler of whisky (not his first) sitting near his knee.

"Are you ready for some fun?" she asked, "I'll be at the docks."

And the line went dead.

Felicity looked at Oliver, horror all over her face.

Oliver's mouth was set in that all too familiar straight line.

Slade stood up, grunting and clutching at his side.

"I don't care if she's my sister, Oliver, she killed my little boy."

His voice was a single, unvaried pitch and Oliver recognised it. It was one of defeat. Defeat before the battle. Resignation to a fate.

Oliver nodded, preparing to Hood up.

* * *

"Oliver, please," begged Felicity, tears dancing on her lower lashes, chin trembling as she tried to keep them there.

"It's going to be fine," he assured her, placing a hand on her cheek. She instinctively turned her head into his palm.

"She killed a little boy, she won't flinch killing you."

"I can handle it."

"Please don't do anything stupid, I used up my courage supply for the month last night, I don't know what I'd do if..."

"Not going to happen," he was quick to reassure her.

He stooped a little to kiss her, pulling away as Slade and Pippa returned.

Both of them were dressed in Slade's combat gear and they appeared a force to reckoned with. He was sure that it didn't stop at their looks. They were being consumed by their grief, and Oliver felt terrible thanking his lucky stars that the two had something behind them when it came to throwing themselves at what was sure to be a bloody fight.

Pippa's hair was braided tightly; the curls that usually framed her face were missing, making her appear severe. The anguish had already hollowed out her cheeks. A knife was housed on her upper arm, and Oliver was sure it wasn't the only one.

Slade had his two swords housed on his back and a pistol strapped to his thigh.

Oliver flexed his bow string once, checking the tension.

"Ready?"

"As we'll ever be," Slade replied, taking Pippa's hand.

The husband and wife team turned, heading up the same stairs they'd come down moments earlier. Oliver beckoned for Diggle to follow them, and the man of few words exited the basement.

"Please be careful," Felicity implored.

"Please stay on coms," his request was just as resolute.

He kissed her once more, deeply, allowing it to say everything that he wasn't able to put into words at that moment.

He pulled away and gave her a curt nod before jogging up the metal stairs.

Once the door closed Felicity put a shaking hand to her mouth, allowing a single sob to escape before mentally reprimanding herself and sitting down in front of her computer set up.

"Can you all hear me?"

"Yep," Slade and Pippa's response came in unison.

"Roger," replied Diggle.

"It feels really good having you inside of me," teased Oliver and she could hear the smile in his voice.

_Trust him_, she rolled her eyes.

"Alright, there's only one heat signal coming from the docks at the moment. Be careful guys."

* * *

The fire fight started as soon as they stepped out of the shadows of the warehouse on the dock. They'd all dropped low and Oliver silently praised Pippa's ability to think on her feet. She seemed attuned to everything she needed to do and as the three men spread out, she kept equal distance between Oliver and Slade.

"Diggle?" Oliver whispered.

"Seems to be coming from behind those crates," he motioned with his hands to where he meant.

He was right, small flashes could be seen coming about twenty metres straight in from of them. But the shots didn't seem to be aimed at them. A warning perhaps?

Diggle and Oliver spread out more, having every intention of going around the side, out of the guns range to get Rose.

But then the warning shots seemed to stop and bullets were suddenly chinking off the ground and struts around them. There were few places to hide and as Oliver ducked behind an oil drum he checked on the rest of the quartet. Pippa was pressed up against a concrete column, her slim body well protected. Diggle was squatted behind another crate, not so protected but Rose didn't seem to be a very good shot. And Slade, wait, Slade didn't have anything in his very near vicinity to hide behind.

"Slade, to me," Oliver hissed.

The Australian seemed to size up the distance between himself and Oliver, a good thirty metres, he decided that was too much, and turned towards Pippa.

"No!" Pippa exclaimed, knowing that the slim column wouldn't protect the full form of her burly husband.

Slade arrived to where Pippa was hidden, pressing his body as close to hers as possible. Their guaranteed safety was short lived, a bullet grazed Slade's arm making him twitch away from the column, another bullet entering his chest with enough explosive force to push him back a few metres.

"Slade!" Pippa yelled.

Oliver had decided that enough was enough. Rose seemed to have eyes only for Pippa and Slade, appearing intent on putting them out of their misery. He stood up straight, reached for his quiver and fired, one after the other.

Out of the corner of his eye, Oliver spotted Pippa dragging Slade back to the relative safety of the concrete column. He couldn't see Diggle, but was getting little progress reports in his ear.

"Oliver?" came Felicity's voice.

"Slade's been hit, it looked bad, the rest of us are okay," he told her, "where is she?"

"I don't know, the heat sensors are being scrambled. My screen is just a mess."

Oliver fell silent as he continued to knock and fire arrows, hoping that Diggle was nearly there.

"Oliver," it was Pippa this time, "it's not good, it's not good at all."

He had expected her to sound as she did earlier that day, her voice strangled with emotion. But she sounded like a robot and this concerned Oliver. He heard a click as someone disconnected themselves from the coms.

She was ready to die, too.


	17. Final Chapter

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Pippa sobbed over and over, nursing Slade's trembling body.

"It's okay, darling girl, it is okay," he smiled painfully, nodding.

Oliver was still firing arrows in Rose's direction, trying to keep her pinned there until Diggle got around to surprise her.

"You're going to be okay, I'll patch you up, you'll be fine," she assured him.

Oliver could hear their hushed conversation on the other side of the docks through the coms and when Slade's shaky "We gotta disagree on that" crackled through Oliver faltered as he knocked his arrow.

Tommy.

"Pip, I'm sorry you got tangled in this," Slade said for the fourth or fifth time, a hand moving to reconnect her to the coms system.

"Ssh, it's okay," she cupped his face, stroking his eyebrow with her thumb.

"I love you, my darling girl, my only darling girl," he reached up and took hold of Pippa's wrist. "You do what Oliver tells you to."

"I love you too."

"When I see Joe, I'll give him a kiss for you."

"Mhmm," Pippa nodded, swallowing hard and sniffing.

"Dig, where are you?" Oliver hissed.

"A few metres from Rose's position, nearly there," Diggle replied. There was a pause. "Shit, Oliver, she's not here, the weapon is on an automated fire."

Pippa turned to look at Oliver, a mortified look on her face. She watched as Rose swung down from a pipe, a heavy kick connecting with Oliver's head, sending him sprawling, out cold before he hit the ground.

Pippa scrambled around on her bum, behind Slade, allowing him to lean heavily against her. She pulled Slade's pistol from his holster and took the safety off. She levelled it at Rose, hands steady.

Rose sashayed towards where Pippa held an eerily still Slade in her arms.

"I should have killed you last year," Pippa yelled through gritted teeth.

Rose stopped a metre or so away from the fiery red head, cocking her head to one side.

"Go on then," she grinned.

Pippa's fingers twitched on the trigger but didn't pull it.

"Oh please, Pippa, you were begging to join me, what changed your mind?" She pulled a knife from her soft leather boots, turning in this way and that.

"I wanted to find Billy and Slade, we agreed to find them together, you thought Oliver Queen had something to do with their disappearance and so when he turned up, I thought I could get information out of him, it turns out you knew everything all along, you were the bad guy," Pippa spat.

"Please, bad guy is such an ugly phrase."

"It doesn't make any difference, Rose, none! You left our husbands on that island. Everything that happened to them from that point onwards is down to you."

"Deep down inside, you knew it too," Rose teased.

"I can't believe you let that happen to Billy and Slade!" Pippa shouted, beside herself as no amount of coaxing would wake Slade.

"My brother wasn't supposed to kill my husband," she lightly nudged Slade's lifeless leg with her foot.

"Of course he wasn't! He shouldn't have had to! You should have got them off the island the minute you knew that it was their plane that went down there."

"That wasn't part of the plan. Neither was Oliver Queen, but you helped me get to him too. They were meant to stay on the island. I had plans for them too, plans that never came to fruition, thanks to Mr Queen."

"What did you expect? You turned partners against each other!"

"Slade was supposed to start working under Fyers too. His conscience got in the way and-"

"Because he's a good man," Pippa retorted, "because he has morals, because he has a heart!"

"He did."

Pippa, using one hand to keep the gun trained on Rose, put her other hand in Slade's forehead, tipped his head back and glanced down. Slade's face was gray, his jacket soaked through with his own blood. Dark, arterial blood.

"Slade?" Her voice cracked as she stroked his face. "No..."

Pippa looked up at Rose, who had a satisfied grin on her face. Pippa's jaw pulsed as she struggled to bring her emotions under control.

"Just kill me now, Rose, so help me god if you let me live, you will regret it."

Rose reached down and, with a vice like grip on her upper arm, hauled Pippa to her feet. Slade crumbled onto his side, his arms reaching for something invisible.

"You're going to regret the day you started looking into Lian Yu," Rose hissed.

"So will you," Pippa replied, her chin thrust forward defiantly.

"Pippa," Oliver's groggy voice whispered in her ear, "Pippa, I need you to stay still, I have Rose in my sights but my vision is a little blurry, just stay still."

"It's okay," Pippa replied and Rose raised a confused eyebrow. "Do what you have to do, Oliver."

Rose's eyes widened in panic and a split second before a green arrow pierced her chest she drove her knife upwards, feeling a few of Pippa's ribs give out.

"Pippa!" Oliver's yell was in her ear and echoing around her.

Rose fell backwards, driving the arrow further through. Oliver came running across the asphalt, eyes only for Pippa as she pulled the knife out of her chest.

"NO! Don't do that!"

Oliver felt like his legs wouldn't go fast enough. He watched her sit down heavily, her failing body lying back on the concrete. With one hand futilely held to the wound that was spewing blood, she reached out with the other, just touching Slade's hand with her fingertips.

"Diggle, where the hell are you?" Oliver roared.

"Trying to deactivate the device on the gun."

"Pippa, she's, I dunno," Oliver finally reached Pippa and Slade's prone bodies, "Diggle, I think..."

He trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

"Oliver," came a timid voice over the coms, "The police are close."

Oliver didn't reply. He grabbed Pippa's blood stained hand and hugged it to his chest.

Her fingers twitched against Slade's palm.

"You should go," her voice was low.

"In a minute," Oliver replied.

"Now," Pippa insisted, gently squeezing his hand.

"Diggle?" Oliver asked.

"Done, on my way out the back," came the short reply.

"Good," he nodded.

"Oliver," Felcity warned, her voice shaking, "Please, get out of there, come to me."

"No. I'm done, Felicity, I'm done with everything," he sighed heavily and tore the coms piece from his ear, throwing it.

Oliver pressed his lips to Pippa's, tasting blood. He pulled away and she smiled faintly at him.

"Oliver, listen to her," Pippa's breaths were gurgling. "Go, now, quick, go to her."

He nodded, pushed himself off the concrete and ran, vaguely aware of the looming sirens.

And he went to her.

* * *

**So there you go, all Olicity fans, something to let your imagination run wild.**

**Thank you to the few reviewers that I have left. Thank you to everyone who is still reading. God knows why, but I appreciate it.**

**I may do a little more writing, I may not. This was my first foray into this and it was scary!**

**I'm also thinking about putting a little epilogue up. I have a few ideas. **

**Let me know what you think?**


	18. Epilogue

**Finally. A little epilogue. I have had so much trouble with my computers, new and old. I had just about given up. However, a few stern words have worked wonders.**

**So here we go, a little epilogue, a little satisfaction.**

* * *

He had run. All the way back to Verdant. His sobs and the pace he sprinted at making his lungs burn and muscles cramp.

Felicity was waiting at the top of the stairs, a blanket wrapped around her. As he arrived, his chest heaving, she opened her arms and took him in, wrapping the itchy woollen throw around him. She had to help him inside and down the stairs after a few minutes as the police were combing the area.

She had taken him to a corner, furthest from the door and sat down with him, helping him out of his green hood. He had sat there, inert, as she slipped his arms out of the sleeves, his hands falling into his lap. He was slouched forward, his legs out in front of him and he didn't react when Felicity put the blanket around his shoulders.

Oliver couldn't work out why Pippa meant so much to him. Having been a woman he spent 90% of his time trying to catch out, the pull he felt towards her was something else. Her pleading "go, now, quick, to her" had been the only thing loud enough to make him leave Slade, Pippa and Rose on the cold concrete, despite her having whispered those final words.

* * *

Felicity was leaning against a column in the basement, watching Oliver, sat at her desk, flicking through online news articles.

She breathed in deeply and wandered over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He lent back against the chair, his hands going behind his head, and Felicity sat on his knee.

"Are you okay?"

Oliver nodded, his pursed lips telling a different story.

Felicity raised an eyebrow.

"I kissed her, again, Felicity. I couldn't stop myself," he shrugged.

"I know."

"You know?"

"I heard. It took me a while, and a few listens, but I worked out what it was. It was her kiss that made you come to me. And I'm forever indebted to Pippa for it, you're safe."

She had cupped his face with both her hands, and was staring intensely into his eyes, a small crease appearing in between her brows as she tried to convey the seriousness of the situation.

Oliver nodded.

"What have you found?" Felicity turned to her computers.

Oliver put his hands on her hips and scooted closer so she could type.

"Not much, I was hoping you could sort out the police reports," he replied.

"Done," she brought up pages of information with a flurry of activity.

As Oliver read over Felicity's shoulder, he felt his blood run cold.

_4-6 litres of blood found, but no DBs or anyone requiring first aid. _The junior officer's initial report had been scanned into the SCPD incident log.

Felicity glanced sidelong at Oliver, unable to see any reaction to what he was reading.

A car had been reported stolen a few hours after everything at the docks went down. A shift worker at the docks finishing up for the night went to the car park to discover that his car wasn't there. A few spots of blood were also found near the secondary crime scene.

A small alarm sounded on Felicity's computer and a box flashed in the bottom right hand corner.

"What's that?"

"A pharmacy two blocks over has just had their security tripped. Police are on their way. Could be a couple of kids after a cheap high or-"

"It could be Pippa."

Felicity shrugged. Oliver glanced at the screen that had his team tracked constantly. Diggle was one block further than the pharmacy, probably on his way to the basement.

Oliver put his mobile to his ear.

"Dig."

"Can you do a drive by of Chan's Pharmacy, let me know what you see?"

"Sure," he replied and Oliver heard the familiar sound of his indicator. "Alright, slowing down, doesn't look to be anything, the lights are off, no windows broken, wait, someone is coming out now."

"Does it look like Pippa?" Oliver asked.

"Hard to tell, they're wearing a hoodie, hang on," Diggle continued his running commentary. "Pippa!"

There was a pause, and Oliver rolled his eyes at the blatant move that Diggle had pulled.

"Yep, it's her, Jesus, she looks in bad shape. "

"Like, almost dead, bad shape?" Felicity piped up.

"Pick her up, get her to tell you where the others are, then tell me," Oliver ordered, and hung up.

* * *

Oliver held his bow, an arrow aimed at Rose's chest.

"I did it once, I'll do it again," he threatened her. She looked up from the chair she was tied to, seemingly uncaring.

"I can tell you who I worked for, you all thought I was head honcho, nope," she smirked.

Oliver turned his head, left and then right, allowing it to click slightly, relaxing the muscles.

Diggle was working ferociously on Slade, who was still the same sickly gray colour he had been at the docks. Felicity was tending to Pippa, who was coughing up an abundance of bubbly blood.

"Oh god," Pippa pressed her head into Felicity's shoulder as the terrified IT girl wiped Pippa's mouth, still holding a towel to her broken ribs, gentle and steady.

"Ssh," Felicity rubbed her back, glancing at Diggle, whose forehead was beaded with sweat.

"Felicity," Pippa sobbed.

"You're going to be fine, Slade is going to be fine, you hear me?" Felicity's quavering voice did absolutely nothing to instil anyone with any confidence.

"No," Pippa replied.

"You and Slade, you are perfect for each other, you're going to be okay," Felicity inwardly reprimanded herself; She was giving advice to a woman whose husband was dying right in front of her, not someone whose was experiencing the rocky roads of high school relationships.

"We aren't perfect for each other," Pippa spoke in strained breaths, sitting up as best she could manage. Felicity fumbled slightly with the towel, but quickly recovered and pressed a little bit more firmly than she intended, soliciting a growl from Pippa.

"Sorry," Felicity looked over the top of her glasses, "And I meant what I said, you two, perfect."

"We aren't," Pippa was adamant, "You two aren't perfect for each other, I'm not going to lie and say that, but, Felicity, it's not meant to be perfect, it's meant to be difficult, and testing, and maddening sometimes, and it's okay. Who wants love like the movies, they aren't really in love at all, and they're just reciting their lines."

Felicity held Pippa's gaze for a moment before looking away. Her green eyes were clear and gave no indication of the pain she was in as she spoke, true and resolute.

In the other corner of the room, Diggle supressed the overwhelming desire he had to pump his fist in the air, Felicity-esque, and holler "YES!", but he did it mentally. Slade had a weak and sporadic pulse, but there was one. And he was sure that Slade was drifting on the very edge of consciousness.

"Slade?" Diggle whispered, hunched over his prone form.

His hand twitched, and fingers crept forward to Diggle's knee, touching it lightly.

Slade whimpered, and that was all Diggle needed, he hooked him up to a bag of Pippa's blood, mentally reserving two more for him and praying that there was a fourth one somewhere for Pippa herself. He set to work, furiously trying to staunch the flow of blood from his chest. There was the fresh bullet wound to contend with, as well as the mere days old knife injury that was torn open.

The ex-serviceman had blocked out everything he possibly could but he was aware enough of his surroundings to register Felicity, kneeling beside him.

"Sit rep?" Felicity asked, recalling a few military terms. She felt ridiculous saying it, but if it kept Diggle in the zone, then she didn't care.

"Touch and go," was Diggle's terse reply.

"Pippa is having a lot of trouble breathing," Felicity said quietly.

"I know," Diggle replied. He could hear her now; short, sharp intakes of breaths, released in an interrupted series of snorts, whimpers and grunts.

"And she's still coughing up bubbly blood," Felicity added.

"Take the second medical kit, she should be able to sort herself out with your help, her lung is obviously severely damaged, just don't let her get worked up, we only have one bag of blood for her, Slade needs it more, so you have to reduce the blood loss before we can give it to her."

"But Diggle-"

A demanding shout from Oliver pulled everyone's attention towards him.

"STOP!"

"It's not me, Oliver, it's not me who has failed this city," Rose was repeating, over and over again, her voice more and more shrill.

"Tell me who you work for!" Oliver demanded.

"You're going to kill me anyway," Rose shrugged, and then winced slightly at the pain in her shoulder.

Felicity had the foresight to look away. Diggle and Pippa, however, were full of purpose and refused to tear their eyes away from what they knew was an imminent occurrence.

"Whatever," Oliver sounded almost resigned to not getting an answer. He released the bow string, a small whoosh sounding as the arrow flew across the room and lodged in between Rose's sixth and seventh rib on her left side.

A bullseye to the heart.

* * *

**So there we go.**

**I have actually started a continuation of this story. I'm unsure whether to continue posting in this story or start a new one. The few chapters I have written so far are as Olicity as I can get them. **

**So, I dunno.**

**I hope you enjoyed it up until now.**

**Cheers.**


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